The Croaking Raven
by doritoFace1q
Summary: L think that, with the Death Notes gone, and Kira in prison, he can finally get some time to himself. But he's proven wrong when specters from the past come back to haunt him, and some. Delves into some non-canon, personal backstories and ideals for the characters. Draws mild inspiration from other fanfictions.
1. Prologue

Hello, hello, hello, and welcome back to yet another Death Note fanfiction, this time being, not a rewrite of a series, but a slight alteration in the story that led to L not dying, Light and Beyond becoming acquaintances, and Mello getting food poisoning. I was originally going to write a Percy Jackson fanfiction, but changed my mind XD Maybe I'll post it once this one's done.

* * *

L watched Light embrace Misa in the lobby, narrowing his eyes. _Do normal people often hug for that long_? he saw Light turn so his mouth was facing Misa's hair, and away from the cameras. _Long enough to whisper something_. Misa sprang back, beaming at Light, before skipping off to meet Watari.

He frowned and pressed a button on his keyboard. A Gothic-style F blinked onto his screen. "F, you are still in the Kanto region, correct?"

"That's right," F sounded confused as to why L was contacting him. "Um, L – "

"I need you to tail Misa Amane – I'm sending you her satellite signal right now. A map appeared on his screen, with a blinking red dot moving away from headquarters. "Can you do that?"

"Sure," F said, still confused but sounding more resigned. "I'm on it."

L leaned back in his chair. _I wonder. . . Light Yagami, what are you planning_?

xxx

"Ryuzaki," L looked up to see Aizawa standing in front of him, holding a metal box covered in dirt. "There was a kid here, about twenty or so. He told me to give this to L, and then ran off."

"Ah, thank you," L reached over and took the box.

"Who was that?" Mogi asked. "And how does he know you're here?"

"That's for me to know and you to ponder," L carefully lifted the lid off the box and reached in to procure a Ziploc bag with a folded-up sheet of paper in it. L carefully opened up the bag and slid the paper out. He unfolded it and scanned the words on the page. He narrowed his eyes. _Thank you, F_.

"What is that?" Soichiro Yagami asked.

L hesitated, before holding the letter up. "See for yourself."

There was a brief silence as the Task Force members read the letter. "No way," Matsuda breathed.

"Is this some sort of sick joke?" Aizawa roared. "What is this?"

"Proof, of course," L spun his chair around.

"Proof of what?" Light asked, walking down the stairs, coffee cup in hand. "What's that?" he asked, looking at the letter.

"Oh, nothing," L said breezily as Light walked to stand next to him. "Just a letter that you wrote to Misa and buried in the woods, commanding her to kill me." his voice hardened.

Light's eyes travelled from the letter in his father's hands to the muddy box on the table. He stiffened.

"Light, tell me this isn't true," Soichiro Yagami's look was pleading. "Please. . ."

Light was still. Then, suddenly, he threw his coffee cup at Mogi and Aizawa, drenching them in scalding liquid. The two spluttered, wiping at their faces, as Light kicked Matsuda's legs out from under him and racing for the exit.

L was on his tail at once. He found that he was much faster than Light, and grabbed his wrist, yanking him to the ground. Light fell with a shout and kicked out at L. L rolled easily out of the way and slammed an elbow into Light's back. He screamed, and elbowed L in the chin. That stunned him enough for Light to get up and run for the exit again.

Soichiro Yagami ran after him. "Light!" he called, Light faltered, which gave L enough time to tackle him and send the pair rolling on the round, shouting insults and exchanging punches.

Suddenly, somehow, L found himself pinned to Light's chest, a penknife at his throat. The rest of the Task Force members faltered. "Stay back," Light hissed. "Stay back!"

The knife began to put pressure on L's windpipe, and he snarled, grabbing Light's wrist and yanking it away, twisting it to jab the knife into Light's shoulder. Light screamed, dropping the knife, and Aizawa ran forwards to cuff his hands behind his back.

L rolled away, standing up. Light, meanwhile, was screaming. "Damn you!" he roared, thrashing around on the ground. "Damn it, L! Jerk! Loser! Bastard!"

L wiped at the cut Light had made on his throat and observed the blood smeared on his palm. "Git," he said simply.


	2. Chapter 1

I'm going to pretend that L actually met the children of Wammy's House in person – it's just to depressing otherwise. I'm also giving him, Matt, Mello, and Near a more brotherly relationship. Mello and Near's 'lifelong competition' is now more of a sibling rivalry than an 'imma point a gun at you and be a tsundere but also a deadly mafia leader trying to undermine you at the same time' thing.

* * *

L woke up suddenly with a start, a feeling of panic in his chest. This was made apparent immediately. There was a mass of black satin in his face, cutting off his air. He tapped the shoulder of the small, somewhat-identified creature asleep on his face. "Mello," he said, voice muffled. "Mello, you're cutting off my oxygen."

The mass only snuggled tighter on his face, making a sound somewhere between a snore and a 'no'. L sighed, and instantly regretted it. He was practically suffocating under the weight of the eight-year old crushing his face. "Mello, get off." when the boy _still_ didn't do anything, L grabbed his arm and flipped him off the side of the bed.

"Ow!" the boy let out a surprisingly feminine shriek as he fell on the ground. "L, that _hurt_!" he complained, rubbing his head.

"You were suffocating me," L said, trying to sit up, but found that he couldn't. He lifted his head to see a dark-haired boy in red flannel pajamas lying across his chest, snoring pleasantly. He lifted his head a bit more, and saw a small white bundle curled up on his left leg. He snorted. "I got back from Japan not twenty-four hours ago, and you're already invading my personal space. I'll give you this, you never manage to disappoint." he flicked the dark-haired boy sharply on the forehead and jerked his leg.

The dark hair boy sat up with a squeak, banging his head on the inclining roof above L's bed. The white-haired boy raised his head, blinking large grey eyes blearily.

"Good morning. Get out," L said, smiling pleasantly.

"Nice to see you too," Matt grumbled, crawling out of the bed, making a point to climb over L's stomach. Near scrambled out over L's legs and landed with a thump on the ground next to Matt and Mello. L sat up and stretched, bumping his head on the slanted roof.

"I don't see why people spend millions hiring assassins to off you," Near said bluntly. "They could just give Mello a chocolate bar and have him sit on your face for a few minutes." Mello grabbed a lock of the younger boy's snowy white hair and gave it a sharp tug. "Ouch!"

"When did you get here?" L asked, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up, hunched to avoid hitting his head on the roof.

"Last night," Mello said, lying on the ground. L stepped over him on his way to the wardrobe propped against the wall. "We wanted to say hi, but you were already asleep!"

Matt sighed dramatically. "The one time we _don't_ want you to get some rest, and you do. Oh, the irony."

"And who's idea was it to crawl into my bed?" L asked, pulling a plain white, long-sleeved tee over his bare torso.

"You looked cold," Mello said.

L scoffed. "Sure," he said, kicking him lightly as he headed for the door. "I'm going to go now."

xxx

The moment L entered the dining hall, he was tackled by a group of children. "L!"

He smiled, ruffling the heads of the children, pinching some of their cheeks and even pecking a few of them on the foreheads, listening to the excited babble. "Hey, Linda! Oh, hi, Xavier! No, Katie, I did not gain fifty pounds – do I look fat to you? Rue, stop pulling my hair. Oh, ew, Pete, that's gross!"

Watari waded through the sea of children, picking L out by the shoulder. "Now, now, children," he smiled kindly. "L just got back last night – let's give him some space, all right?"

L shot Watari a grateful look as he sat down at a random seat and grabbed a plate of pancakes. The other children all grabbed their plates and moved to sit near him. L smiled lightly as one child dumped syrup on his pancakes, another sprayed whipped cream, and a third dumped strawberries. "Ah, thank you," he carefully cut out a piece of the pancake (really, it was more like a cake, now), and took a bite, chewing slowly, grinning to himself. _I love keeping them in suspense_.

"Come on, L!" Mello cried as he finally swallowed the bite. "Just tell us! You caught Kira, didn't you?" the whole room was charged with enough tension that L felt like he was sitting in the middle of an electrical storm.

L cut out another piece of the pancake. "Yes."

The room exploded with cheers. Linda and Frank high-fived, and Catherine shouted wildly, pumping her arms. Henry pulled Asha into a tight hug, and Jojo burst into tears. L laughed as he was showered with questions about Kira.

Across the room, Roger chuckled. "They sure do love him."

Watari smiled, taking a sip of tea. "How could they not?"

* * *

I'm going to make L and the kids a bit more British, because they freaking live in the UK and the animanga/movies/drama/games/novels did _not_ do that justice. Also, before you say I'm being stereotypical and rude and blah blah blah, my British friend and proof-reader is the one giving me all my English ammo, so F-from-change-the-WorLd off.


	3. Chapter 2

Why's Light in America? Because PLOT HOLES!

* * *

Light sat in the prison cafeteria of the L.A. State Penitentiary, moodily stabbing at the bowl of mush that they had served him.

"Hey! Hey, pretty boy!" another man leered at him from across the room. "Hey, Kira!" a spoonful of mush splatted in his hair, and he glared at the man who had thrown it.

"What?" he snarled.

"You gonna kill me for that?" the man barked, twisting his face into a grotesque smile. "Gonna gimme a heart attack?"

"I should!" Light shot back, clenching his fist on his spoon. "Or make you cut your finger off and write your own obituary on the wall in blood – the possibilities are endless!"

"Then why don't you do it?" the man cackled, and Light growled to himself, dropping his spoon. _Americans. Why am I even here_? He wasn't hungry, anyways.

Later, he sat in his cell, hunched in his bunk, flipping through one of the dreadfully simple books that the prison library would provide him. He sighed, dropping it on the ground. If he thought his life was boring before, it was nothing compared to now.

"Hey," he looked up and almost jumped out of his skin. Hanging down from the bunk above was. . . _L_.

Or, almost L. He didn't have any of the detective's trademark shadows under his eyes, and his hair wasn't as long, instead cut into the standard prison buzz cut. His eyes weren't black but, rather, a curious shade tinted with what seemed to be red, and his skin was darker, tanned. There were burn scars all over his face, making it look like he had stuck his face in a campfire, and there was a wide, manic, smile spread across his face.

He swung down from the second bunk with the same catlike agility as Ryuzaki and sprawled on Light's bunk next to him. "What's up?"

"Obviously not you," Light said, staring distastefully at the man. "What're you in for?" he asked and bit his tongue. _Damn it – I'm even_ talking _like a criminal, now_.

The man grinned at him. "Murder of four. Surprised you didn't kill me while you were in power, Kira." his voice even had the same accent as Ryuzaki – British. His, however, was faded, almost gone, as if he hadn't visited England for a while.

"I probably tried," Light grumbled, scooting away from the man. "Tell me your name, and I can try again."

"You can call me Ryuzaki." Light started, and the man laughed. "He gave you that alias too, right? Well, he stole it from me." he grinned up at Light. "Wanna know my real name?" he inched closer to Light. "Beyond. Beyond Birthday." he cackled, and Light wiped his spit off his face. "Fun, right?"

"How do you know L?" Light asked, sitting cross-legged.

"Oh, we're old chums," the man said casually. "Well, that, and he put me away, but you know," he smiled pleasantly. "I think we both know that it's possible to like L and want him dead at the same time."

Light frowned at Beyond. _Beyond Birthday. . . I've heard of you. I spent half my life fawning over L's work – I know I stumbled on your name somewhere_.

"So," Beyond said casually. "What do you say? Let's blow this place."

Light stared at him. "What?"

Beyond grinned. "You, me, escape. It'll be fun!"

"You're insane," Light decided.

"So, I am," Beyond grinned. "But I can also get you out of here."

Light observed him carefully. _He's got all the workings of a mad genius – he and L are obviously made from the same mold_. "What's in it for you?"

Beyond cackled. "Now we're talking."

xxx

L pulled his arm across his body, stretching it, feeling his taut muscles relax. "You ready, Mello?"

The boy, bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet. "When you are!" he looked up at L, who was wearing his normal attire of a long-sleeved white shirt and baggy jeans. Mello himself wore a black graphic T-shirt and basketball shorts.

"Aaaand, go!" Matt blew into the whistle he had dug out from under Near's bed and flopped onto the bench next to the albino.

L moved quickly, slipping around Mello and jabbing him in the side with two knuckles. He returned to his original position before Mello finished yelping. "I wasn't ready!"

"Come on, Mels, get on his level!" Matt called from the side, grinning.

"Shut up!" Mello called back. "Okay, now I'm ready," he told L. His fist came at L's face, fast, but not fast enough. L moved to the side, leg shooting out and catching Mello in the soft flesh of his belly. The boy landed on his rump with an "oof!"

"Get up," L said, bending his knees slightly. "Move with your opponent – be flexible, not stiff. You want to avoid contact as much as possible. Tire your partner out, then go in for the final blow." to demonstrate, L whooshed around Mello. When the blonde turned to follow him, L struck out, sending him sprawling again.

He groaned, sitting up. "Come on, can't you go easy on me?"

"I am," L smirked. Near giggled, bouncing his teddy bear in the air, making its legs swing. Mello flipped him off, and L kicked him to the ground again.

xxx

L tugged his shirt off with a sigh. Mello had refused to give up and had only left the gym after Watari had intervened, telling L to 'stop beating up his successors'. He flopped onto his bed with a sigh, feeling the old mattress bounce beneath his weight.

He had just closed his eyes when the door swung open and Near walked in. L cracked open an eyelid. "What?"

"Linda has decided that she wants to do a still-life of the view of the garden from my window, and she's using oils," he said simply. "And, as bunking with Matt or Mello is completely out of the question, I decided to come here."

L chuckled, scooting over to let Near scramble into his bed and curl up next to him. "You're warm," the boy informed him.

"And sweaty." the boy wrinkled his nose and L laughed.

Near soon fell asleep, and the room was filled with soft, gentle, huffing snores. L lay awake, twirling a strand of the boy's snowy white hair around his finger. But the warmth of the tiny body pressed against his, and the lull of the night slowly began to make his eyes droop and, before he knew it, he was hot on Near's tail on the way to dreamland.

xxx

 _L sat in the garden, crouched in the position he had adopted on the bench beneath the alder tree, holding a book up in front of his face. He heard a creak and perked up, narrowing his eyes._

 _A young man had pushed open the gate, holding a small white bundle in his arms. He ran up to the doorstep and carefully placed the bundle on the front, before racing back out the gate, closing it behind him._

 _L hopped off the bench, leaving the book on the bench, and loped to the front door, bending over and picking up the bundle, which, it turned out, was a woman's nightshirt. He pulled back the blankets and blinked in surprise. A baby, barely a few weeks old, with skin even paler than his, made a quiet, whimpering noise and shifted, reaching out with a small, pudgy hand and grabbing one of L's long, slender fingers._

 _L shifted the baby slightly, reaching with his other hand for a note tucked in the sheets. He flipped it open._ Nate River, August 24, 1991 _._

That's helpful _, L thought sulkily, pushing open the door. "Well, Nate River," he said quietly, walking up the main stairs_. _"I think it's safe to say that I'm unqualified to take care of you. But," he smiled, pushing open the door to Watari's office. "I think I know someone who can_."

* * *

*le gasp* Non-canon backstories! tHe HoRrOr


	4. Chapter 3

I'm not even going to bother giving the chapters themed titles anymore. . . my brain doesn't have enough capacity to think about anything other than mitochondria and 'er' verbs right now (I have finals coming up – pray for me :'I)

* * *

Light glared at the other prisoners as he was dragged to solitary, cuffed at both hands and feet, listening to the catcalls of the other prisoners.

"The great Kira, leading a prison breakout!" one called, crossing his eyes at him and laughing.

"Looks like L's other victim ditched you!" another shrieked, shaking the bars. Light glared ahead as his cuffs were removed and he was forced into the solitary cell, door slamming shut behind him.

He growled, kicking the wall. "Damnit!" he roared.

xxx

"Ellllllllllllllllll," Mello wheedled, tugging on L's sleeve. "Come on!"

"No," L said, turning the page of his book. "I got in trouble last time I told you stories from work."

"Please, man!" Mello held onto L's sleeve, slumping so that it started to stretch. "Just answer some questions!"

"Mello – "

"Please, with cherries, whipped cream, and an ice lolly on top!" Mello shook L's sleeve.

"Fine," L sighed, sitting up. "But only because you're going to rip my sleeve."

Suddenly, as if by magic, all the orphans in the room were sitting in front of him. Mello clambered up to sit on his armrest, Near crawled into his lap, and Matt inched so close that he was practically on L's foot.

L chuckled. "What do you want to know?"

Xavier's hand shot up. "Who was Kira?" he asked, and everybody nodded in agreement.

L waited for them to quiet. "He was a first-year college student, living in the Kanto region of Japan, named Light Yagami."

Jojo raised his hand next. "How did he kill?"

L smirked. "Now, I can't tell you that." the children burst into protest.

Near poked L in the stomach. "Where's Kira right now?" he asked.

"That, I don't know," L said, tugging light-heartedly on the little boy's hair. "Last I heard, he was in a holding cell at the NPA, but he could be elsewhere by now."

Mello tapped L sharply on the head. "What did he do when you confronted him?" he asked, eyes bright with excitement.

"He threw coffee, at two of the police officers in the room," L said, edging excitement into his voice. The children all leaned forwards expectantly. "He ran for the door, but I was hot on his heels. I grabbed him, and we both fell to the ground. But, it turned out he had a penknife hidden under his clothes, and he put it to my throat – " there was a collective intake of breath as all the children gasped. "—expecting the police to be compliant if I was held hostage. But!" the children all edged forwards, looking beside themselves. "He was an amateur with the knife. I grabbed it and stuck him in the shoulder." the children cheered. "Then, he was arrested."

Rue raised his hand, and L nodded at him. The dark-haired young boy looked at L with intense grey-blue eyes. "What do you think will happen if somebody else gets the same power as him?" he asked, voice smooth and commanding.

L traced his lip with his thumb, observing his tiny duplicate. "That," he mused, "Is an excellent question."

xxx

L tucked Near in and kissed him on the forehead goodnight. He left the little albino's room, closing the door gently behind him. He looked up and saw Watari standing in front of him. The old man smiled wanly. "You've been gone for months, but they still cling onto you as if you'd never set foot outside the walls."

"We both know that would be exactly what would have happened if you had your way," L said, shoving a soccer ball to the side of a hallway with his foot. "But I had to go there for this case," he said.

"That's what you said about the Los Angeles cases," Watari reasoned as the pair began the climb up the creaking spiral staircases to L's attic room. "And yet the only reason you wanted to go was on a vain hope."

"Key word, vain," L said, sitting on his bed. "But, enough with the chitchat, Watari. What did you really want to speak about?"

Watari sighed, pulling L's chair from his desk and sitting on it. "There's been a situation."

"Really," L worded it more as a statement and less as a question.

"Last night, Light Yagami and another prisoner attempted escape from the Los Angeles State Penitentiary."

L frowned. "What's he doing in L.A?"

"Heaven knows. He was caught, but the other prisoner got away." Watari sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. "He's on the run, now."

"I see," L nodded. "This other prisoner. . . he wouldn't happen to be Beyond Birthday, would he?"

Watari didn't reply, and L sighed. "I thought so." he stood up. "Well, that's certainly news, but unless the United States wants me to track B.B. down – "

"No," Watari interrupted. "They. . . well, they don't think it's safe to keep Kira in a common prison anymore."

"Well, what do they want to do?" L asked. "Stick him in a bunker and open it up ten years later to check whether he's still alive?"

"L. . . they want to put him in your custody."

L sat on his bed, gazing at Watari, mouth hanging open. "You're kidding, right?" he said, dumbstruck. "You want to bring Light here. To Wammy's?"

"That's certainly what the American government sees fit to do," Watari said, uncomfortable. "The Prime Minister has agreed that L is the best person to keep Kira."

"Watari, there are children here!" L said, standing up, narrowly avoiding bashing his head on the ceiling. "I can't just let a serial killer waltz into a house full of people he will not hesitate to use against me!"

"He doesn't have a Death Note anymore, and he will be in a secure room at all times," Watari said.

"What about the scrap attached to his skin?" L protested, pacing the room. "And he doesn't need a notebook to take lives, Watari! Don't tell me you actually agree with this!"

"I think that it's better than letting him stay in a prison where two prisoners can just run out, waving their knickers in the air!" Watari hissed. "Our security is just as good as the prison's, if not better – "

"I can't allow that," L said firmly. "His presence would only endanger everyone!"

Watari hesitated, before sighing. "Very well."

* * *

Who do you think Rue is? It should be pretty obvious if you've watched _Death Note: New Generation_ and _Light up the NEW World_ (yes, I'm using a character from the spin-offs – don't worry, the very thought of the plotlines makes me want to barf, too), but I've added a extra touch of my own ideals to the character ;) Trust me when I say he's more important than he seems.


	5. Chapter 4

I think I forgot to say this before, but I'm making L a bit younger – twenty-one at the beginning of the Kira case and twenty-two by the end. This is just so that his relationship with the boys is more brotherly and less fatherly. I changed the ages of the Wammy's Boys, too – Near is five, Mello is eight, turning nine, and Matt is nine-ish.

* * *

Light woke up blindfolded, arms strapped tightly. He recognized the feel of a straightjacket. When he tried to speak, he was met with a muzzle. He couldn't hear anything, due to what he assumed were soundproof headphones, but, judging from the shaking, he assumed that he was in a helicopter.

Based on the hard, flat surface beneath his back, he guessed was probably strapped to a board of some sort. He huffed to himself. _Probably transporting me again. . . those bastards_.

There was a deep rumbling in the base of his skull, and he assumed they were touching down. _Where to now, oh great and powerful government_?

xxx

Near held onto the edge of the window, struggling to peek over the top. Matt and Mello, two years older and significantly taller, were able to stand comfortably above him, watching the helicopter outside.

"Huh. That's some chopper," Matt whistled appreciatively as the vehicle turned for the landing pad on the roof.

"Yeah," Mello mused, picking Near up to let him see. "Wonder what's in it?'

"That's a government chopper," Near pointed out. "L just got back, it can't be business, right?"

"Why don't we go ask?" Mello suggested, putting Near back on the ground. The other two boys followed him as they ran up the stairs, headed for L's room.

They met the young raven halfway up the grand staircase. His hair was a mess, and he was wearing nothing but his normal pair of baggy jeans. "What's the chopper about, L?" Matt asked.

L looked dumfounded. "I was hoping you would know," he said, frowning. "Here, hold this," he shoved a black hoodie into Near's arms, almost sending the tiny boy tumbling down the stairs, yanked a balaclava over his face, grabbed the hoodie back, and yanked it over his bare torso.

"You've really got to stop running around the place shirtless," Mello remarked as the group ran for the roof, L tugging on a pair of black gloves. "We've got kids here, you know."

xxx

The wind made by the chopper hit L in the face as they got onto the roof. The blades slowed, and eventually stopped as the small group made its way across to where Watari stood, dressed in his outfit of trench coat and hat.

"Watari, what is this?" L demanded from behind his mask as the wind died.

Watari looked at L, face hidden in shadow. "I'm sorry, L," he said, voice heavy. "What I said yesterday was a warning, not a request. I was just trying to let you know before – "

Two men hopped out of the helicopter, wearing S.W.A.T. suits and tinted helmets. One of them opened the door wider, speaking to someone inside, and the other walked up to Watari.

"Sir," he saluted Watari.

"Those blokes are _American_!" Mello said suddenly, and Matt punched him. Near peeked out from behind Ls legs.

The man shot a quizzical glance at L and the children. "Ah, these must be your charges," he said. "I'll have to ask them to leave."

"They're with me," L said. Though his words betrayed no hostility, his tone was cold and laced with venom.

"And, you are. . ?" the man asked, voice faltering as he saw L's eyes. "Oh, I see. . . well, um, alright." he turned around to address his companions. "Bring him out!"

The men carefully lifted a board out of the helicopter, rolling it towards the group. Upon closer inspection, they saw that there was a person strapped to the board. A young man, a few years younger than L, blindfolded, muzzled, tied in a straitjacket and wearing soundproof headphones. His auburn hair, shaved into a buzz cut, peeked out from beneath the ties, and his face was calm and serene.

"Who's that?" Matt asked, tugging on L's sleeve.

"Matt," L's tone had changed – it now sounded unsure, maybe even frightened. He crouched in front of the trio. "Mello, Near, I need you three to go to Roger's office and have him bring everybody to the library. Lock the door, and don't come out until I tell you to. Make sure there is absolutely nobody on the second floor."

"Only if you read us a bedtime story later," Near said stubbornly.

L smiled (or maybe he didn't – it was hard to tell with the balaclava). "You drive a hard bargain," he remarked, ruffling Near's hair. "Now, go."

The trio left the roof, running down the stairs. L stood up. "Do we need to sign for custody?" he asked the man, nodding at Light.

"Just this standard release form," the man handed L a clipboard, still looking awestruck. L scribbled his trademark letter on the dotted line, handing it back to the man, irritation in his eyes.

"I'll deal with the rest," Watari said. "You can go."

L shook his head. "I'd rather stay," he said tersely. "Wouldn't want somebody to mess up and send a mass murderer running through the house, now would we?"

xxx

L stood in front of Light. He had been placed in one of the bedrooms on the second floor – unremarkable in appearance, but fortified with layers of iron in the walls, electric fence wiring on the door and windows, surveillance cameras pointed at every possible exit, from multiple angles, and an auto lock system designed specifically for Light.

Light himself was still in his ridiculous getup, but no longer attached to the board. He was now seated in a plush chair, sitting upright and patient, as if waiting for his father to come home. L, still wearing his hoodie and balaclava, but no longer the gloves, sighed, reaching forwards to take his headphones off. Following this, he removed his muzzle, and finally, hesitating only slightly, pulled the blindfold off, revealing the golden eyes of his nemesis.

xxx

Light didn't resist when they had taken him off the board. He hadn't struggled when they placed him in the (surprisingly comfortable) chair. He didn't move when the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he knew he was being watched.

He tensed as he felt the earmuffs get taken off. The room was quiet, but he could hear somebody else breathing and rain on glass. _This doesn't sound like a prison_ , he thought.

 _It doesn't smell like a prison either_ , he noticed. There was a pleasant sort of air freshener in the air, reminding him of the ocean. Not only that, he observed as his muzzle was removed, but there was a faint scent of – could it be? – strawberries lingering where his captor moved.

He felt ice-cold fingers brush his skin, and goosebumps bristled on his arms. _Those hands. . . it can't be_. The blindfold was lifted, and Light found himself gazing into a pair of terrifyingly familiar eyes.

The pair watched each other for a moment before L stepped back. He was wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over his head, and a balaclava covering the greater part of his face.

"Come on," Light said, smirking. It felt strange to speak after so many hours of silence, especially to _L_ of all people, and his throat was hoarse from dehydration. "You know you don't need that – I've already seen your face, after all."

L narrowed his eyes, and his hand drifted up, yanking the hood back from his head. He tugged the balaclava off and shook his hair loose. He dropped the mask and looked coldly at Light. "Hello, Kira."

xxx

"Hello, Kira." L watched Light, looking for any sort of reaction. His grin remained on his face, but L saw the muscles in his cheeks tighten.

"L," Light replied. "How have you been?"

"Well. Yourself?"

"Could be better," Light replied breezily. "I am curious, however," he mused. "One moment, I was at the L.A. State Penitentiary, and the next, I'm sitting in a ridiculously fancy chair at. . ." he glanced around. Four-poster bed. Polished mahogany desk and furniture. Rich, velvet sheets and drapes. Leather bound books in the bookshelf. Intricate, beautiful, oil paintings on the walls. "What I would assume to be a Victorian mansion?"

"Close enough," L said coldly. "After your escape attempt, the government decided that it would be a jolly good idea to put you in my custody." his voice betrayed no emotion, but his eyes were full of hate and annoyance.

Light chuckled. "So this is _your_ house? I must say, L, I knew you were rich, but I didn't know that you actually had a place of residence – I always assumed you just stayed in a hotel until the next case popped up. That would mean that I'm in England right now, correct?" L stiffened, and Light grinned. "Oh, yeah, I figured it out. Your accent and slang are ridiculously obvious."

L glared at him. "Believe me when I say I didn't ask for this arrangement. However, I don't exactly intend to be popping in to visit every few minutes. We've implanted a tracker into your skin so that we know where you are all day, every day. It will also electrocute you if you try to leave the room, so don't even try." Light huffed. "You will be confined to this room until the authorities find somewhere else to put you, or you die. Meals will be given to you three times a day, along with any necessities within reason. Don't bother asking for anything ridiculous. Trust me, you're getting a much better deal here than at any luxury prison." he turned to storm out the door.

"Nice seeing you, too!" Light called huffily. The only response he got was the door slamming loudly.


	6. Chapter 5

" – and Coil gave me his name, then retreated into the shadows, never to be heard from again." L finished, sitting up.

"Come on, L," Mello complained rolling over to pout at him. "You always tell the same story! Can you tell us something new?"

"I would, but all of my other stories involve many grisly details of death, bloodshed, and violence, which Roger has labelled 'not appropriate for your age group'." L ruffled Mello's hair. "And you said that my story about meeting Watari was boring, so this is it."

"It is, though!" Matt protested, bouncing slightly on Mello's bed. "He found you in an alleyway, brought you to Wammy's, you became a detective, the end." he puffed up his cheeks.

"I think it was cool," Near piped up, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. Mello kicked him in the side, sending him tumbling off the bed.

"I'm practicing!" he said quickly as L glared at him.

L stood up and picked Near up, letting the little boy cling around his neck. "Come on, Matt. Bedtime was almost an hour ago – if we get caught, Roger's going to have my hide."

"Wait!" Mello called, and the three turned around. "Who was that guy today?" he asked. "The one in the straitjacket," he added.

L moistened his lips as the children all looked at him. Near tugged on a bit of his hair. "Who was he?" Mello repeated.

"You don't need to worry about that," L said, smiling weakly. "Come on, bed. Or I can't guarantee that our rears will be fully intact tomorrow."

xxx

L was up late that night, crouching at his desk, sorting through cases that he had been sent from all over the world. Finally, at around three thirty, he closed his laptop and buried his face in his knees. _It's no use_ , he thought to himself. _I'm getting more cases than ever – even petty thefts_. He sighed, prodding at his lip. _Maybe I should just take that kidnapping case in India – I haven't been there in a while, and I could brush up on my Hindi_.

He leaned back in his seat, letting his head dangle over the edge. _Or maybe I could take some time off. . . the crimes will still be there when I perk up again_. He felt his eyelids begin to droop, and he chuckled. _Look at me – sleeping every night and contemplating a vacation leave with a mass murderer right below me_.

He hopped out of his seat with a sigh. _I can't focus like this_ , he thought angrily, lying down on his bed, mashing his face into his pillow. _Just a quick nap_ , he promised himself. _I'll be up again before I know it_.

xxx

Beyond set the binoculars down with a frustrated grunt. _I'm not getting any chances from here – Light, what the hell are you doing_?

He tucked the binoculars into his bag and swung his legs over the side of the tree branch. He prodded at the bags under his eyes and chuckled. _At this rate, I'm not even going to need makeup to have to looks like him. Or maybe I'll need concealer – he sleeps so much now that I feel like his sleep scars are almost gone_.

His hand drifted to his hair. It had grown after his escape and was almost long enough to reach his ears. _But not long enough to pass as him_.

He leaned back against the tree trunk with a sigh. _Well, if Mr. World's Greatest Detective can afford to take a break, then maybe I can too_.

 _Just this once. . ._

xxx

L woke up to banging on his door. He sat up with a grunt, rubbing at his eyes. He glanced at the small digital clock on his desk and almost fell off his desk. It was eleven o' clock. _I've been asleep for_ eight hours _!_

He stumbled to the door and opened it. "Roger," he said blearily. "What is it?"

"L, Watari – were you asleep?" the man flashed over L's hair, matted to one side of his head, and the drool mark on his face.

"Decided to take a little nap," L said. "What about Watari?"

"Oh, yes," the man said, still looking rather surprised. "You're needed on the second floor – the prisoner wants to speak to you."

L raised an eyebrow. "I'm not obliged to answer his every whim."

"He broke a window and threw a tray at a guard."

L sighed. "I'll be right down."

xxx

Light looked up as the door creaked open and clicked shut. "Well, if it isn't the great lord, descended from his tower to walk amongst the mere peasants," he smirked as L pulled his hood back and yanked his balaclava off. "I must say, Ryuzaki, this new outfit of yours is much better than your old one. . . you actually kind of look the part, now."

L glared at him, yanking the chair out from the desk and sitting in it – actually sitting, rather than crouching. _Damn, he must be_ really _pissed_. "I'm only here because you threw a tantrum," he growled. "Trust me, I have much better things to do with my life than here you blabber."

Light rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't be like that. We both know you're here 'cause you want to." L's lip curled and Light grinned. _This is so much easier than I thought it'd be – did I wake him up or something_?

"What do you want, Light?" L snapped. "I'm busy, and would prefer to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Does my family know that I'm here?" Light asked, the lie sliding from his tongue as easily as it when he first met L. "My mother threw a fit when they transferred me to L.A – I remember that. And I can't imagine Sayu or Dad staying put in Japan if they had known that I were here."

L's jaw tightened, and Light narrowed his eyes. _Huh. So, they really don't know_.

"No," he answered. "Your move was strictly confidential, agreed on by the president's cabinet and Parliament. The only people outside the government who knew were Watari, and myself – your former jailers were under the impression you were being brought back to Japan, and even the people who transported you were made unaware about your identity."

Light huffed, leaning back in his seat (well, as much as he could without falling off – he had been placed in a straitjacket again after breaking a guard's nose with his food tray). "I suppose asking for a visit is out of the question?"

"You're a prisoner, not a guest – if you need any reminders of that, we've got a bunker in the back. . ."

"Video conference?" Light was surprised when L actually seemed to consider the possibility.

"Perhaps," he said finally. "But you'll have to stay in a straitjacket."

"Naturally," Light rolled his eyes. "You're so uptight, Ryuzaki."

L stood up, looking annoyed. "I've got Kira locked up in my house – how could I not be?"

* * *

In this story, I'm going to pretend that Roger's the grumpy uncle who cares, but doesn't want to show it, because he just looks like a tsundere XD


	7. Chapter 6

"No!" Near clung to his bedpost, screaming with more emotion than he ever had in the five years he had been alive. "No!"

"Near, come on!" Mello growled, tugging at one of the little boy's legs. Matt was holding on to the other, looking halfway amused and halfway exasperated. "We're going to be late!"

"I'm not going!" Near clung even tighter onto the bedpost. Mello growled with frustration and gave his leg a sharp yank. The bedpost slipped out of Near's hand and he fell into Mello with a squeak.

Mello swiftly picked him up and ran out the door, Matt hot on his heels. Near was hitting Mello with his teddy bear, but the stuffed animal did little to deter him.

They arrived at the gym and dumped Near at L's feet. The little boy took this chance and tried to run, but was immediately scooped up by L.

"What's this?" he asked, looking amused. "Number one trying to escape a class? Now I've seen everything."

"It's not a class, and I don't need to know it!" Near struggled in L's arms, but his short legs still hung a foot or so above the ground.

"Would you like me to recount every time my right hook has saved my life?" L asked dryly.

"No, thank you."

"Put him down, L!" Mello rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Lemme at the little cotton fluff!" Near scrambled up L's chest, grabbing his neck and hanging off of it with his tiny hands.

"No, Mello," L set Near on the ground, and he hid behind his leg. "Near," he addressed the little boy. "I'm not going to force you to learn this, but would prefer if you knew at least some self defense skills."

"I won't go outside, anyways," Near crossed his arm, the perfect image of childish stubbornness. "And if I do, I'm bringing bodyguards."

Matt flicked Near's hair, "Hey, short stack, do you think that trustworthy bodyguards grow on trees?"

L sat down in front of Near, looking tired. "Near, danger is often closer than you think," he said. _Much, much, closer_.

xxx

Light was leaning against the window, looking outside, when the door creaked open behind him. He turned around to see a masked guard walk in. "Yagami," he greeted him. "Watari has made arrangements for you to be able to have a video chat with your family, friday at six thirty. L himself will oversee it."

"P.m.?" Light asked.

The guard nodded tersely, and Light smiled. "Thank you." the guard left the room, shutting the door behind him. Light could hear the locks turning and clicking into place.

He turned back to the window, leaning out and squinting ever so slightly. He could just manage to see a dark mass sitting on a sturdy branch of a tall oak tree. He smirked to himself. The mass, otherwise known as Beyond, was dressed in camouflage and had woven leaves and sticks into his hair and smeared his face with mud, dark paint, and tree mulch. You never would have found him if you didn't have amazing eyesight and weren't looking specifically for him.

"Friday at six thirty p.m.," Light said, musing as if to himself, but directing the words towards the binocular-bearing mass in the tree. "Overseen by L himself." he spoke carefully, shaping his mouth to every word. "This should be fun," he grinned.

xxx

Beyond lowered his binoculars, barely able to contain his laugh. He cackled quietly to himself, falling back on the branch and rolling around, screeching with mirth (had he not thought ahead and strapped himself to the branch, he would have fallen off and broke his neck).

He sat up, wiping tears of joy from his eyes, smearing the mud on his face. "Oh, Ellie," he chuckled. "Even after all you've seen and done in this world, you're still too trusting." a grin spread across his face, like the jam he so loved on a slice of bread. "Believing a hardened criminal like myself or Light Yagami could change our ways. . .

"You fool."

xxx

L sat on his bed, turning his Glock 19 around in his hand. _It's been years since I've had to use it_. He twirled it in the air, catching it by the handle and pointing it at a knot in the wood of his wall, arm steady and firm.

 _Danger is often closer than you think_. The words he had said earlier in the day to Near echoed in his ears, and he imagined Light or, perhaps, Beyond Birthday, standing in front of the gun. He flicked the safety trigger, and the sound echoed a thousand times in his mind.

There was a knock at his door and he hastily turned the safety back on, shoving the gun under his blankets. "Come in."

The door creaked open, and Rue poked his head in. "Um, L?"

"Rue," L nodded. "What is it?'

"Well, I've noticed that there've been some new people around the house," Rue walked over confidently, plopping on the bed next to L, narrowly avoiding sitting on the loaded weapon. "And, you've started wearing your hoodie and mask."

"It's a balaclava," L said, smiling bemusedly at the little boy. "And maybe I just wanted a change of wardrobe."

"For the first time since 1987?" Rue asked, shooting L a lopsided grin.

L chuckled, rubbing the little boy's mess of dark hair. "What do you really want to know, Rue?"

"Are you keeping something – or someone – at Wammy's?" Rue asked bluntly, grinning like they were discussing candy. "And are the new people guards?"

L hid his surprise. _He's sharp_. "I just wanted to add some extra security," he said, trying to sound casual. "I guess the Kira case rattled me up a bit, huh?"

Rue wrinkled up his nose, looking unconvinced. L laughed and playfully shoved him off the bed. "Go to sleep – curfew was almost an hour ago."

The boy left the room, looking happy. L watched him go, before sighing. _Rue. . . you have a gift of seeing more than most. Be careful with what you do with that talent_.

xxx

 _"_ _L," Watari stood behind the boy, who was crouched in front of his computer, tapping his finger on the table. He pursed his lips. He's going to gain terrible posture if he keeps this up._

 _"_ _Yeah?" L spun his chair around, dangling a Haribo gummy bear over his open mouth. Watari grabbed the back of his chair, spinning him to face him. He grabbed the gummy bear and dropped it on the table._

 _L pouted. "What?"_

 _"_ _It's been three weeks, L," Watari said. "And you still haven't addressed either A's death or B's disappearance."_

 _L sighed. "Seriously?" he hopped out of the chair and flopped onto his bed, looking at the one photo pinned on the wall, covered in a thin layer of dust. "We already know what happened – Teresa cracked, and Beyond ran."_

 _"_ _Not good enough, L," Watari stood above L, watching him. "The authorities have been hounding me ever since we found her – they want you to give a statement."_

 _"_ _To why a teenaged agent who travels internationally constantly on assassination jobs killed herself?" L rolled over, looking up at Watari, bored. "Perish the thought."_

 _"_ _To why our second-best turned tail and fled!" Watari said. "I can't exactly put out a search warrant for a boy who technically doesn't exist!"_

 _"_ _You did for me," L pointed out._

 _"_ _Because you were eight, and running around in the forest with an assault rifle!"_

 _"_ _Which you gave to me." L said, smirking._

 _"_ _L," Watari said seriously as L rolled off his bed and picked up the cup of tea he had placed next to his computer. "I think it's time you considered our. . . other option."_

 _L spewed his tea, coughing and wiping his mouth. "No," he choked, wiping at the stains on his shirt. "Absolutely not," he shook his head furiously. "No, with a thousand Os."_

 _"_ _L, how long do you think Nate and Mihael will hold up?" Watari demanded, handing him a handkerchief. "We have to consider other options."_

 _"_ _Hell nah," L said frostily, dabbing at his dripping hoodie. "Watari, I'm seventeen!"_

 _"_ _It's not like you'd be – "_

 _"_ _No!"_

 _Not ten minutes later, L sat, arms crossed and fuming, glaring at the wall. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this," he growled._

 _Watari smiled. "It was easy once I confiscated your candy stash."_

* * *

Anybody who can figure out what they were talking about in the flashback scenes, you're either a genius or frequent the Death Note Wiki (*cough cough* me)


	8. Chapter 7

Anthony stood in front of the door, shifting his weight, looking straight ahead. Below him, on the first floor, he could hear the children playing, shouting, and laughing. He sighed. _This place. . . I wonder. ._.

Halle walked up to him, holding her helmet under her arm. "Your shift's over, Rester," she smiled, using his alias.

He pulled his own helmet off with a grateful sigh. "Thank god – I thought I was going to melt in that thing."

"You said it," Stephen grumbled. "I thought England was supposed to be cold!" he moved to follow Anthony.

"No, no, no, not you, Gevanni," Halle poked Gevanni teasingly in the chest. "You've still got half an hour."

He groaned. "Come on, Bullook – lemme off!"

"Aliases, Gevanni," Anthony reminded him.

He sighed. "Yes, commander."

"Good. I'm going to the kitchen, going to get a drink." he shrugged off his holster, walking towards the stairs.

"Come on, Near, walk faster!"

"Mels, cut the kid some slack."

"Thank you, Matt."

"And plus, he's so tiny it's not like he could move any faster if he tried."

"Hey!"

"Haha, you midget – ow, that hurt! What did you put in that teddy bear?"

Rester turned the corner to encounter a group of three boys – one with golden blond hair cut into a bob and bright blue, ice-cold eyes. A grin was plastered on his face as he dragged the other boys along. The second boy was a bit taller than the blond with a mop of dark hair and dark blue eyes, covered by orange goggles. He held the hand of a small, pale boy with fluffy white hair. The boy was at least a head shorter than the other two boys, and wore white pajamas, stumbling after the older children. He looked up and Anthony started. He had huge, grey eyes, as mysterious and unreadable as the nighttime fog.

"Slowpoke," the dark-hair boy sighed, leaning down and picking the little boy up like he weighed nothing. "I'll just carry you, that better?"

The little boy grumbled, but held onto the older boy's neck anyways, the trio rushing down the hallway. The older man stared, mouth agape, as they rushed off in the opposite direction. _It can't be. ._.

 _Nate_. . .

xxx

 _Anthony laughed, clapping Shawn on the back. "Man, you're hilarious!"_

 _Shawn grinned tipsily. "I know, right?" he took a swig from his glass and set it down on the bar. "Bartender! Another, please!"_

 _"Same here," Anthony shook his nearly empty glass, before glancing down the bar. He whistled, nudging Shawn. "Hey, man, check it out."_

 _A young woman was sitting at the other end of the bar, holding a small glass of brandy and reading a book. She had clear, light skin, and, as they watched, she swept her long, cornsilk hair over her shoulder._

 _He looked up and grinned. "That's some serious eye candy, buddy_." _he took a swig of his newly refilled brandy. "You gonna try a hand?"_

 _"Don't you know it." Anthony stood up, sauntering to the other side of the bar and sitting down next to the woman._

 _"Hey," he said, smiling. She looked up, removing reading glasses. She wore a simple pair of jeans and a baggy hoodie bearing a Shakespeare quote over a T-shirt, and a pair of worn, black sneakers. If Anthony hadn't known better, he'd have thought her to be a high school student._

 _"Hello, handsome," she grinned, setting the brandy down and closing the book. Anthony glanced down at the cover._ The Count of Monte Cristo _?_

 _"It's an amazing read," he commented, nodding at it._

 _Her face lit up. "You've read it?"_

 _"I love it," he smiled broadly. "The storytelling, and the characterization – "_

 _"The plot, the setting, the everything!" she interrupted, then laughed. "I'm Amanda. Amanda River. But you can call me Mandy."_

 _"Anthony Carter," he said. "But you can call me Anthony."_

 _She smiled, swishing the brandy around in her glass. "So, where're you from, Anthony? You don't sound British."_

 _"I'm from Seattle," he replied. "But I'm here for university – I'm at Cambridge."_

 _"Oh, America? Me too!" she smiled good-naturedly. "I'm on leave from my art degree at McGill. I was offered an internship at an artist's workshop here, and I jumped at the chance."_

 _"Impressive," Anthony said. "I'm working on a law degree. I want to go back to America, maybe work in law enforcement."_

 _"Like, the police?" she asked._

 _He smirked. "I'm thinking FBI."_

* * *

Ah, the Count of Monte Cristo. My straight-up favorite novel of all time. Absolutely amazing. I definitely recommend you check it out, if you haven't read it yet. The Frank Wildhorn/Jack Murphy musical is amazing, too :) What else could you expect from the men who created Death Note: The Musical (even though the COMC one came first :P)?


	9. Chapter 8

L groaned as his Mario Kart crashed into the wall, sending Bowser flying. "Come on!"

Matt cackled gleefully as he crossed the finish line, and Mello lay back on the couch, kicking his legs mirthfully.

"Finally, something L can't do," even Near had a small grin on his face. "I need to record this."

"Don't you dare," L growled.

"Get outta here," Mello hopped off the couch, landing next to L and grabbing the controller. "Watch and learn, grasshopper."

L stuck his tongue out, moving to sit on the floor next to Near. "So," he said.

"So," Near replied, adding a sensor to his Lego robot. "We ran into an old man today."

L frowned. "Roger?"

"No," Near looked up at him, eyes narrowed. "Another old man. Thirty, about."

L laughed. "Near, thirty isn't old."

"Is to me," Near said, dragging and dropping blocks on his coding program on his laptop. "He had a gun." he added pointedly as he plugged his brick in to his computer.

Matt and Mello turned to look at L, not even paying attention to their game anymore. Princess Peach's car flipped over, and the queen of the mushroom kingdom went up in smoke.

"Rue said you hired extra security." Near ran the program on his brick and the robot started turning around in circles, scribbling the answers to Near's homework on the paper using a pencil the boy had attached to the brick.

"That I did," L said, not missing a beat.

"We already have security cameras," Matt said.

"And lockdown programs," Near said.

"And land mines," Mello added.

"Never hurts to have guards," L answered smoothly, wincing as they looked at him skeptically. _I hate lying to them. . . but this is for their own safety_.

"We've never needed extra security before," Matt said. "Nobody cares about an orphanage tucked away in the middle of nowhere – isn't that the whole point of the House?"

L leaned back, watching Near pick up his robot. "It's just temporary," he lied. "Watari and I believe that it will be best, for now."

"How long?" Mello asked.

"As long as necessary."

xxx

Beyond kicked his legs, tired and bored. He had been watching L and his precious successors through the window of the living room for the past three hours. So far, all he had gathered was that L was horrible at Mario Kart and that Near was a legend at coding.

He had been briefly interested when they began talking about the man with the gun, but shriveled with disappointment when he realized they were discussing the extra guards Wammy had hired for Light. _Oh, Ellie,_ he sighed, a wicked grin flickering on his lips. _Don't worry – you won't have to lie to your boys for much longer. Very soon, you won't be needing those guards anymore._

He checked his watch (stolen off a fancy-looking businessman who didn't look like he had needed it anyways) and almost screamed with laughter. _Forty-eight hours, L. . . forty-eight hours until your reign is over, and I take your mantle_. . .

 _Be prepared_.

xxx

Light lay on the fancy four-poster bed he still hesitated to call his own, staring up at the canopy. _Forty-eight hours_. . . _why am I shivering? Cold? Anticipation? Fear?_

 _There's nothing to fear_ , he promised himself. _Forty-eight hours until L is dead. Forty-eight hours until we're free_. He tugged absent-mindedly at his hair. It had grown so it was almost the same length as it had been before being cut. _Forty-eight hours_. . .

xxx

L sat on the floor beside Mello's door, fingering a small toy he had picked up from the ground, trying to keep his hands busy.

"L?" he looked up to see Matt standing in front of him, rubbing his eyes and looking sleepy and tired.

L smiled. "You should be in bed, Matt."

"Mels has my pillow," Matt said, sitting down next to L. "But he's asleep, right?" L nodded. "Thought so." he put his head on L's shoulder and yawned. "Whatcha doing out here?"

"Thinking," L replied, letting the younger boy doze on his shoulder.

"'Bout what?" Matt asked groggily.

"Just work stuff," L watched a tiny spider climb the wall across the hallway. "You don't need to stress."

Matt looked up at L, blue eyes unhidden, for once, by his amber goggles. "You know, L, you may be the greatest detective in the world and all, but you can still talk to us." he stood up and yanked at L's arm. "We're pretty much your brothers – you don't have to hide."

L stood up and picked the boy up. "Are we brothers?" he asked teasingly.

"I hope so," Matt mumbled into L's shirt. "Otherwise I wasted my pocket change on that birthday present for you last year."


	10. Chapter 9

_Friday_! Light thought ecstatically, sitting in his chair, watching the door. _Finally_. Kira's manic grin spread over his face. _Checkmate, L_.

xxx

Beyond clambered up the wall, grabbing onto the vines that he had used so many times as a child. He pulled himself onto a pedestal next to a gargoyle and perched next to it. He placed his hand on the stone creature's back and shoved. The base creak and he grunted, pushing forwards a bit more. A final shove sent the guardian crashing to the courtyard, shattering into a dozen chunks of granite.

Beyond settled into a hunched position on the former gargoyle's pedestal, crouching comfortably on the polished concrete surface. He glanced up at the window just above him. _Light_. He quickly checked the security cameras. _Still rolling on a loop_.

He giggled. _Tick-tock, L_.

xxx

Light looked up as the door opened. "L, hey – wait, who are _they_?" he was unable to mask the contempt in his voice as two guards carrying guns entered after L, masks drawn tightly over their faces. L himself was clad in his hoodie and balaclava.

"The authorities have permitted you to have this, so long as guards are present," L explained, sitting down in front of Light, tablet in his hands. "I hope you understand."

He nodded tersely. "Of course." _No_! he thought. _Beyond can't break in if there are other people here – what am I going to do?_

xxx

Soichiro paced in circles, hands clenched behind his back. Sachiko sat in the chair at the dining table, hands clenched on the tablet. Sayu was bouncing up and down next to them. "When's he calling?" she asked.

"Soon, dear," Sachiko smiled. "Soichiro, honey, could you please sit down? You're making me nervous."

"That's because _I'm_ nervous," Soichiro replied. "He should have called three minutes ago – what if something happened?"

Sachiko was about to answer when their tablet blinked on, an Old English L blinked onto the screen. "It's him!"

Sayu leaned over, tapping the L. Light's image blinked onto the screen. "Light!"

"Hey, Sayu," he smiled at her. Soichiro walked over, and saw that Light was sitting in an extravagantly furnished, Victorian-style bedroom. However, behind him, Soichiro could see two guards wearing masks and carrying guns and, standing directly behind him, a young man in a hoodie and balaclava. _Ryuzaki_.

"Hi, Dad, Mom," he said, looking nervous. "How have you been?"

"Oh, Light," Sachiko had tears in her eyes. "How have you been, my boy?"

"I'm fine, Mom," he grinned weakly. "And you?"

Sachiko stifled a sob. "I'd be better if you were home."

"Son," Soichiro broke in, and Light visibly stiffened. "What have you been up to?"

Light flinched. "Nothing, father." he hung his head, looking ashamed.

Soichiro sighed. "I – well," he hesitated.

Sayu saved him. "Hey, Light!" she shoved her head in between her father and the tablet. "So, how's. . . wherever you are?"

Light chuckled. "Cold. Rainy." a soft smile passed his lips. "Better than prison."

"That's good, right?" Sayu asked.

"Really good." Light grinned at his sister. "So, what about you?"

"Oh, my god," Sayu launched into a story about two girls and a guy from her school. Light listened intently, gasping and laughing in all the right places.

"Sayu," he reprimanded her when she recounted slapping the bully in the face. "You shouldn't have done that."

Sayu pouted. "Say's you, onii."

Light was about to say something when one of the guards stepped forwards and said something in L's ear. L placed a hand on Light's shoulder. "Light, I'm afraid you'll have to end your conversation here."

"But our time's not up yet – "

"Sir," the guard said. "We really must go."

"What's going on, Ryuzaki?" Soichiro asked.

L looked around, visibly troubled. "Stay with him, Gevanni," he commanded the other guard. "Light, you and your family may continue talking, but do exactly what Gevanni tells you too – Commander Rester, lead the way."

The two men quickly exited the room, leaving the Yagamis to gaze after them, confused. _What's happened?_ Light wondered. _Beyond – did you do something_?


	11. Chapter 10

Beyond had done something.

Plan B, to be exact.

Beyond had known immediately that he wouldn't be able to ambush them from the outside. _Bringing guards. . . clever, very clever, L_. He grinned. _But you always forget the most important parts. . ._

xxx

 _"Right here," Light tapped the spot on his skin where a piece of synthetic flesh had been stitched over his arm. "That's where the scrap is."_

 _Beyond twirled the scalpel in his hand. "You're sure there's enough room?"_

 _"It's small," Light confessed. "But just large enough to be held. Therefore, we could probably fit a name and actions on either side."_

 _"I'm still having trouble believing this," Beyond grumbled as he began cutting away at the stitching. Light grit his teeth but said nothing. "But, then again, there's a lot of things that can't be explained in this world."_

 _He pulled at the final stitch and Light carefully slid the paper out. It was folded into a small square, which he tore a corner off of, shoving it back under the false skin. "I still need it to keep my memories," he reminded Beyond, who shrugged and began stitching the incision back up._

 _"I'll take this," he said, tucking the scrap of paper into the waistband of his boxers. "We'll need it if anything goes wrong_."

xxx

Beyond grinned, clenching the paper tightly in his fist. _Just enough room left for one more name. . . two, if I squeeze it_. He grinned wickedly.

 _Titus Morris, bullet wound. Goes to a secluded orphanage on the outskirts of Winchester, England, at 6:05 on Friday, December 16, 2004, bringing a gun loaded with ten bullets. Breaks into the orphanage with force and fires three random shots. Hits two orphans, injuring them, but not fatally. Screams for L to come out and answer to the wrath of the people. Shoots the orphanage director in the leg and threatens to shoot all the children. Dies from a bullet wound in the head._

He slid down the side of the building, running back to his tree. _How convenient_ , he thought.

xxx

L ran down the stairs, yanking his gun out from his concealed holster. "Security breach in the main hall?" he confirmed.

"Some crazy broke in, screaming about how L needs to answer to the people." Rester quickly loaded his rifle, holding it out in front of him. "Fired a couple of random shots."

"Anybody hurt?" L rounded a corner, pounding down the stairs.

"Hit two children, but they'll live – Xavier and Near." Rester's voice sounded slightly panicked, but L dismissed this.

The two men crept over to glance into the living room, where the infiltrator stood, pointing a gun at a group of frightened children. L quickly spotted Near, a red stain spreading on his shoulder, shivering and being held by Matt and Mello, who looked ready to murder somebody.

"Get in here, L!" the man screeched, eyes wild. "Answer to the people! Give us back our lord Kira!" he waved his gun. "Show yourself, or the kids get it!" L saw foam leaking out of his mouth as he cackled wildly, pulling the trigger and hitting Roger in the leg. The old man shouted in pain, falling back against a bookcase, grabbing the injured appendage, groaning.

"Shut it!" silence fell, save for Roger's panting. L carefully turned off his safety. The click resounded through the silent building. The man turned. "What – " his eyes widened.

L leapt out from his hiding space, skillfully kicking the attacker in the chest, sending him sprawling. The man fell to the ground, screeching and waving his gun wildly. L twisted his wrist and the man wailed in pain, dropping the weapon. L straddled the man and cocked his gun to his head.

The man's eyes widened. "Wait!" he yelled, looking panicked and confused. "I don't know why I'm here! I didn't mean – " he was cut short as L pulled the trigger.

The children screamed as there was a bang and sounds of the man's skull cracking. Blood splattered all over the room and L. He stood up, tucking the gun back in his holster. "Rester," he commanded the stunned man. "Please dispose of the body. Have Lidner come down here and help. Watari," he told the old man who sat in the corner, holding the injured and quietly crying Xavier. "Please tend to Xavier and Roger. Children, please go back to your rooms, and don't come down until we inform you otherwise." the children all filed out of the room, sobbing quietly, a few looking stunned, others looking horrified or disgusted.

L knelt by Near, yanking his face cover off. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Near shot him an exasperated look. "Yes, L, I'm tip-top. Please ignore the bullet in my shoulder and tell me about the weather."

"Good, you're still coherent." Near spluttered as L squinted at the wound. "Looks like it grazed you. . . the bullet's not in there, right?"

Near shook his head, and Matt pointed at the wall, where the nine-millimeter was imbedded. L picked Near up, careful not to jolt his shoulder.

"You should've let me at him!" Mello said, punching his palm angrily. "That jerk – only I'm allowed to treat Near like that!"

"I don't think that came out exactly as you wanted it too," Matt grumbled as they entered the infirmary. Xavier and Roger weren't there yet – most likely still in surgery. L set Near on one of the cots and opened up a first-aid kit.

"Did any of you recognize the man?" L asked, helping Near shrug off his bloodstained shirt.

"No," Matt said as L carefully dabbed at the injury. Near winced but didn't move. "Just some random dude, burst in like he was possessed, or something."

L faltered in threading surgical thread through a needle. _Possessed_. . .


	12. Chapter 11

L sat on the couch, the successors piled up around him. The TV flashed softly, playing the boys' favorite movie. Matt snuffled quietly, shifting slightly and putting his head on L's leg, fast asleep. L quickly checked that the others were asleep as well before gently easing himself off the couch, replacing the place where he had been with a pillow. _They won't know the difference_.

He quietly padded out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. He walked down the hall, tugging on his balaclava and yanking his hood over his head.

He had matters to attend to.

xxx

 _Mail ducked, throwing his arms up over his face as the beer bottle shattered above his head._

 _"Damnit!" his father roared. "Useless lump! Go do something that doesn't involve your stupid games for once!"_

 _Mail rushed out of the room, running up the creaky stairs to his tiny alcove room at the top of the house. He reached under his bed and tugged out a small rucksack. He had already filled it with the essentials – food, water bottle, a packet of his father's cigarettes and gaming console. He shoved the last items – his orange goggles and a shard of the beer bottle he had smuggled out – in, before stuffing the cover back on and putting the bag on the ground. He sat down behind it, closed his eyes and silently counted the minutes._

 _It had been just over half an hour when he heard the door swing open downstairs. He heard his stepmother enter the house, shouting at his father. He scrambled out from under the bed, tugging on his vest and slipping his arms into the straps of the bag. He pushed open the window, wincing at the loud creaking. But his parents' shouting downstairs effectively drowned out the noise, and he opened the window fully without complications. He tugged the rope he had made out of his curtains and bedsheets, shoving it out the window. He leaned over the sill to watch it fall down the side of the house, the bottom just barely brushing the snowy ground below._

 _Mail gave the rope a final tug, to ensure his security during the climb down, and swung himself out the window. He half-slid, half-climbed down the makeshift rope, landing with a small_ fwoomp _in the snow below._

 _He stood up quickly, brushing at his wet pants. He ran out of the tiny garden, pushing open the iron gate and stumbling off the property, stomping awkwardly, raising his legs over the thick snow._

 _He ran down the street, moving faster than he ever had in his life. He had gone about three blocks before he slipped on the slick ground and landed in a heap on the ground. He stood up, tears welling in his eyes, and looked behind him. His footprints had been covered by a freshly fallen layer of snow, and he was almost positive his parents wouldn't be able to track him down._ If they even bothered _, he thought angrily, wiping at his tears and turning around to keep running_.

xxx

Matt sat up with a jolt, rubbing his eyes and looking around, panicked. He relaxed as he saw that he was in the familiar Wammy's house library, and he sighed in relief, leaning back on the pillow.

 _Wait. . . pillow_? he looked behind him. L had left the room, leaving a rather large pillow in his stead. He hopped off the couch, jolting Mello. "Erf. . . Matty?"

"Where's L?" Matt asked.

Mello grunted. "S' a mystery. . . dunno." he rolled over, shoving his face into Near's hair.

Matt opened the door and poked his head outside. L wasn't there, either. He frowned, leaving the room and padding down the hall. "L?"

"Where are you?"

xxx

L stood behind the table, arms crossed, biting his lip. "Background on the perp?"

Lidner flipped open a file. "His name was Titus Morris – an assistant secretary at William's Law Firm. Age twenty-eight, single since twenty-six, lives with his brother in Winchester."

"Was he a Kira supporter?" L asked. "That could explain his shouting about 'the people'."

Lidner shook her head. "No. As far as we know, he was neutral on the whole L versus Kira debate. No history of mental illness, in him or his family, either, so we can't exactly rule this out on insanity."

L traced his lip – or, at least tried to. When he brought his hand up, he met nothing but the fabric of his mask. "So, he was basically a common citizen. Where did he get the guns?" L asked.

"We found security footage of him attacking two police officers and stealing their weapons." Gevanni answered. "It seemed to be a very spur-of-the-moment decision. One minute, he's walking along with a friend, next, he's punching one officer and shooting the other in the face."

"Spur-of-the-moment," L repeated the words, feeling them roll over his tongue, as if they were a spell, incantation, or perhaps the password to a lock he hadn't known he was trying to unlock. "So, from what I've heard from you and the children, he was almost. . . possessed?"

Rester frowned. "Well, that's one way to put it."

"Possessed," L confirmed. "And, remind me, who do we have locked up on the second floor?"

"Kira," Gevanni answered, frowning. "But why – "

"Humor me," L interrupted. "Now, what can you tell me about Kira's victims?"

"They died of heart attacks," Lidner said slowly. "And he could kill using multiple means."

"He also controlled some of them before they died." Rester said.

"Exactly!" L said. "Kira could control his victims! Perhaps he still can. . ." he added, thinking of the tiny scrap of Death Note attached to Light's skin. _It can't be_. . .

"You think Kira controlled the guy to come here?" Gevanni asked. "And specified that you'd shoot him?"

"Most likely." L didn't like the thought of him shooting Morris being an action controlled by the Death Note – it sent a chill down his spine. _Was I controlled by the Death Note, and not even realizing it? Am I being controlled right now? How do I tell the difference between my own actions and the notebooks_? He shook his head. _I can't think like this. If I keep dwelling on the possibilities, I'll drive myself mad_.

The door creaked open and L turned around. A small, redheaded boy was peeking through the door, rubbing his bleary eyes. "L?" he asked.

"Matt," L said, quickly handing the file back to Lidner, who casually slipped it behind her back. "I thought you were asleep."

"I had a bad dream," Matt explained simply. "I think I woke up Near and Mello, thought."

L chuckled. "Are you asking me to read you back to sleep?"

"Maybe,"

L sighed, but not unpleasantly. "Very well. Gentlemen, Miss Lidner, I think we're done here." he nodded at the guards, who nodded back, and picked Matt up, heading out the door.

"Are you actually going to tell us a story?" Matt asked groggily as they headed back for the library.

"Of course," L smiled sadly, pushing open the door.

"I think it's about time I told you the third tale. . ."


	13. Chapter 12

I'm just going to pretend, for the purposes of this fanfiction, that nobody knew about Beyond, because I'm guessing that Wammy's House doesn't exactly like to run around telling everybody about past failures

* * *

Mello sat up as L entered the room, carrying Matt. He shook Near gently, careful not to jolt his injured shoulder. Near sat up, right arm still in a sling. He rubbed his eye as Matt crawled onto the couch next to them.

"So," Matt said. "Story."

The other two boys sat up, attention immediately directed at L. He hadn't told the children stories from his work ever since he'd recounted a serial killer in Paris with an obsession of making paintings with his victims' blood and leaving the art and corpse out for authorities to find. The result had been half the children having nightmares for days, and many orphans wandering bleary-eyed around the orphanage (a result of lack of sleep), brandishing paintbrushes at anybody who startled them. Ever since then, L had been forbidden from telling the children about his cases. But he occasionally bent the rules for his three favorite successors and, as Matt said, honorary brothers.

"Well, L?" Mello asked. "Spill!"

L, for the first time, seemed to be hesitant to speak. He ran his thumb over his knuckles multiple times before opening his mouth. "Once," he said, then hesitated. "Once," he continued. "There was a boy."

The successors leaned forwards. They had never heard _this_ before.

"He was born nameless, and, therefore, wandered the streets as a child, calling himself by whatever struck him fancy," L said. "Barry, Benjamin, Brian, the list goes on. The only thing that was consistent about his names was that they all started with B."

 _B_? Near had heard that somewhere before. . . but where?

"He was smart – smart enough to live alone on the streets for the first six years of his life." L said, voice quiet. "But he didn't believe in solving things diplomatically. Whenever he met a problem, he would never try to explain himself, or even talk his way out of it. He understood only one way to solve problems." L drew a finger across his throat. "As he aged, his methods got crueler. Until he was caught by the police and sent to an orphanage." he paused. "This orphanage."

Mello narrowed his eyes. He had a feeling about where this was going.

"He lived here for years. He had no friends, save for one." L flicked up one finger. "She. . . well, nobody knew her name – you know how the aliases work." the children nodded. "But he knew it. She hadn't told him, and yet, when they were alone, he would address her by her real name." he leaned forwards. " _Teresa_."

Matt's eyes widened. _Teresa. . . Teresa was As name! But A killed herself years ago. . . why is L telling us this_?

"He and Teresa lived happily together in this orphanage for years." L said. "Until, one day, Teresa killed herself. It appeared that the boy knew it was coming. He hadn't been surprised, or even mournful, when he found his friend's body. He just sighed and rolled his eyes. Like he had been expecting it."

Mello felt something warm roll down his wrist and looked at his hand. He had been digging his nails into his palm. _This story. . . it sound so much more personal than the other things L's told us_.

"The boy accepted Teresa's death, but he was still angry. He blamed their mentor for pushing Teresa too much, for causing her suicide." L continued, voice low and emotionless. The three orphans were all leaning forwards, eyes wide with anticipation. "He was so angry that he left the orphanage – just upped and ran. Here, there's a gap. The boy went missing for many years. When he next reappeared, he had changed. His hair was no longer blond, but black. His eyes, once brilliant blue, were red. His skin was pale as snow. And he had given himself a name." L leaned in. " _Beyond Birthday_."

Near's eyes widened. _Beyond Birthday. . . B. . . The L.A.B.B. cases! We were never told what BB's motivation for the case was, but L did, didn't he? L.A.B.B. . . The Los Angeles B.B. murder cases. . . L, A, BB. . . L is After Beyond Birthday_. He gulped.

"He started killing. Not in self-defence, or even in self-gain, as he had before, but for fun. Three victims," L held up three fingers. "Three gruesome, horrible, despicable murders. Three people who met violent, bloody ends that nobody would ever deserve. But only three. That's all he had. But it was enough to leave a mark on the City of Angels that would never fade." Matt shivered involuntarily, but L wasn't done.

"Why did Beyond Birthday do this, you ask?" L said. "He wanted to give the mentor an unsolvable case – a case that ended in his death. He wanted to frame himself as the last victim, gone up in flames, so that the mentor would live forever in fear, looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life, terrified of the dead Beyond."

This was normally the part where Mello would burst in with a ridiculous, obvious question, normally 'did you catch him?'. But, today, even the rash blond remained silent – there was a tension in the room that couldn't be cut with a knife.

"Beyond locked himself in an apartment building and doused himself in gasoline," L said, voice so low that the orphans could hardly hear him. "He lit a match," L made a motion with his hand. "And dropped it." he dropped his invisible match.

"He's dead for sure, you think," L said. "Surely he couldn't have survived that! But he did – Naomi Misora, one of the mentor's agents, had tracked him down at the last minute, and doused the flames. Beyond's injuries were treated, and he went to prison." the orphans all let out a breath that they had been holding.

"You think this is where the story ends," L said, and the orphans looked at him quizzically. "But, no. Not three weeks ago, Beyond Birthday escaped with another prisoner from the prison in which they were being held."

"Oh," Matt said quietly, looking stricken. Near and Mello looked horrified as well. "Where are they?"

"Well, I don't know where Beyond is," L shrugged. "But the other one is upstairs." he pointed up. The orphans gasped in realization.

"What did he do?" Mello asked. "What could one scrawny Japanese kid have done to deserve containment from _L_ ," he gestured at the detective, "And three guards?" he asked.

"I want you to use that brilliant mind of yours," L said, flicking Mello's forehead lightly. "Think, Mello – who have I recently put away, who's reign have I just destroyed? Who would be angry enough to fake an escape to be put into my custody? Who would want me dead, want it so much that he's willing to act as a scapegoat?" L leaned forwards. "How many of my victims are _Japanese_?"

There was silence, broken by a single word, uttered by Near.

"Kira."


	14. Chapter 13

Near was dreaming of a world made of Tarot cards when he was rudely poked in the shoulder. He lifted his fluffy white head, turning around. "Whu?"

"Wake up!" Mello hissed in his ear, tugging on the child's uninjured arm. "Hurry!"

Near grumbled incoherently and shoved his face back in the pillow. Mello huffed. "Ugh, come _on_! Matt, help me!"

"Just let the kid sleep, Mels," Matt sighed, feeling very uncomfortable about the whole affair. "He was just shot, after all."

"This can't wait!" Mello declared, with the air of a commander giving an inspiring speech to his army. "I just checked L's room, and he's asleep, but I don't know how long the chloroform lasts!"

"You _drugged_ him?" Near demanded, incredulous.

"Only a little," Mello defended himself. "About an hour ago."

"Why do you even _want_ to go see Kira?" Matt asked. "Isn't he like, super deadly, or something?"

"Of course, he is!" Mello said, as if astounded by his friend's idiocy. "That's why I want to see him!"

"You're insane," Near decided, trying to roll over.

Mello grabbed him and Near yelped. "Oops, sorry. But, still, aren't you the _least_ bit curious?"

"No," Near grumbled, but allowed himself to be yanked out of the rom.

"How do you plan to get past the guards?" Matt hissed as the trio crept down to the second floor (Near's room was on the third, and the older boys were on the second – they had gone upstairs to wake him first).

"That lady, Lidner, she's on duty right now," Mello whispered enthusiastically. "She's super easy to distract; she thinks kids can do no wrong. I told her I got a papercut once, and she wouldn't leave me alone – she kept following me around, offering band-aids, antiseptics, and hot chocolate. Matt, you go up to her, tell her that you've got a splinter – "

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Near said suddenly, pointing at the room. The other boys looked up and did a double take.

The door to Kira's room was wide open, and the security camera's lights were dead. There were no guards in the hallway, and the room was dark as night.

"What happened?" Matt whispered, furrowing his brow.

"Kira got out!" Mello gasped. "Kira got out! Oh, my god, we need to tell L!"

As if his words had been some sort of summon, a figure suddenly stepped out of the room, running a hand through his thick dark hair. He yawned, covered his mouth with a pale, slender-fingered hand. He stretched, falling into a hunched position and blinking black eyes ringed with dark circles.

"L!" Mello said. "But I thought. . ."

"Maybe you messed up," Near commented drily. "Used your perfume instead of chloroform, and he fell asleep because it smelled so bad." Mello smacked him.

The slap drew the attention of L, who turned around, one eyebrow raised. "Near?" he asked, spotting the bright white hair. "And Matt and Mello too, I'm guessing."

"Drat," Mello grumbled. "I knew we shouldn't have brought the albino."

Matt sighed, emerging from their hiding place, followed by Near and the reluctant Mello. "Hi, L," Matt said sheepishly.

"Matt," L sighed. "I should've known it'd be you three."

"Sorry," Mello sighed. "We just wanted to see Kira."

L stiffened. "What? How – " he snapped his jaw shut and blinked quickly. "Well, you can't." he said shortly. "He's a dangerous criminal, not an animal in a zoo."

"Sorry," Matt said, tugging on Mello's arm. "Come on, Mels. You heard the man."

The trio left the hall, heading for their own various rooms. L watched them go, the ghost of a sneer gracing his face.

xxx

L woke up with a groan, blinking his eyes blearily. He lifted his head, shaking his head, dazed. Last he remembered, he had been at his desk, determined to find a new case. . .

And now he was. . . on the ground?

He looked around, squinting in the dim light. _Dark_. . . his eyes roamed unseeingly over the pitch-black room. _Did I close my curtains_?

He made to stand up but fell back on his stomach. A ripple of panic fluttered through his chest, and he, with an effort, rolled over onto his back. He raised his head, using all of his ab muscles to look at his legs. He squinted. _What the hell_? He tried to move his legs, to stand up, to kick the ground, _anything_ , but found them frozen solid. He pushed himself up with his arm and tugged on a pant leg. _Paralyzed_?

He heard a cackle from behind him, and the lights flickered on. L blinked in the sudden light, looking around. _Light's room. . . how_? His eyes widened. _Oh, my god_. . .

His lookalike crouched at his feet, leer evident on his face. "Wakey wakey, Sleeping Beauty," he shrieked with laughter.

L gulped. "B."


	15. Chapter 14

Sorry I didn't upload yesterday, guys :( I've been swamped with work and finals lately, and haven't had time for anything.

* * *

Beyond pulled himself up the side of the building, grunting slightly.

"Damn," he finally gasped, hanging off the windowsill, panting with exhaustion. _Damnit, L_ , he thought, prying the window open with one hand and sliding through. _You couldn't have moved a few floors down? Would have saved me a load of trouble_. he landed lightly on the ground, looking around.

He started. L was sprawled on the ground, limbs splayed unnaturally. Beyond crept closer, hesitantly picking up L's wrist. He pressed his fingers to his vein, half-expecting L to shoot open his eyes and kick him in the face. _Alive_ , he thought, dropping the wrist and pulling back an eyelid. _Pupils are dilated_. . . _anesthesia_? He glanced to the side, where a dish towel had been dropped. He picked it up, sniffing carefully. _No. Chloroform_. He snorted. _Some lucky bastard took care of the job for me, then_.

He slid his unopened vial and syringe back into the pocket of his jeans and picked L up, holding him bridal-style. _He sure is light, despite all the sugar he eats_. He lifted his walkie-talkie to his lips and whispered, "He's down – prep the Mivacron."

He chuckled, tracing L's jawline with his thumb. "We're going to have some fun, Ellie.

"Just you see. . ."

xxx

Beyond knelt at L's feet, checking his watch. "Any minute now," he muttered. "Light, hide."

Light crossed his arms, looking peeved. "And why is that?"

Beyond chuckled. "I want to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up. You wouldn't understand."

Light grumbled, evidently annoyed, slipping behind a curtain. Beyond smiled as L's eyes flickered open, and the detective looked around, blinking confusedly in the dark.

Beyond worked hard to hold back a cackle as L tried moving his legs, then fell on his face. This time, he didn't hold back his laugh as he turned the lights on. "Wakey wakey, Sleeping Beauty."

L's eyes widened, and he paled, turning even whiter than he had been before. "B."

Beyond suppressed a laugh. "Come on, L, don't be so dramatic – we're not in a soap opera, are we?" he turned to look at the security camera on the wall and waved at it, beaming cheerily. "Or maybe we are!"

L shot a glance at the camera, and Beyond shook his head ruefully. "Don't get your hopes up, Lawli. It's on a loop."

L glared at him, and Beyond smiled. "Oh, L," he crooned, stroking L's cheekbone, grin widening as L visibly jerked back. Beyond grabbed L's face with his other hand. "Dear, sweet, L."

Beyond barely had time to jerk back as L's fist came flying from the side, falling back. His shock quickly turned into anger, and he kicked L in the chest. The paralyzed insomniac fell onto his back with a grunt.

Beyond was on top of him in an instant, pinning his arms down. "Should've known to cuff you," he growled, baring his teeth. "Light!" L's eyes widened.

Light loped out from behind the curtains, twirling a pair of handcuffs that Beyond had nicked off a guard. "Thought you'd never ask," he chuckled as his eyes fell on L.

"Light," L growled. "Has the great Kira really sunk as low as to work with a common criminal, now?"

Light bristled, and Beyond giggled. "Oh, L, that hurts," he smiled mockingly. "Am I really that common?"

L snarled furiously as Light dragged him back, cuffing both his hands above his head, chaining them to a bedpost. "There," he stepped back, smiling with the air of an artist appraising his work. L yanked angrily at the chains.

"So, what, you kill me?" L asked, almost disdainfully. "What will you do once everybody notices that L's gone missing?"

"That won't be a problem," Beyond cupped L's chin, looking positively gleeful. "In case you haven't noticed, L, I still do look an awful lot like you."

L's eyes widened. "You – "

Beyond cut him off, jabbing a syringe he had procured from what seemed like nowhere into his neck. L's eyelids fell, and his head drooped forewards.

Beyond stood up, wiping the syringe on his pants leg. "Sweet dreams, L."


	16. Chapter 15

I know I said that Matt's eyes were dark blue in a previous chapter, and that _is_ his canon eye color (Don't believe me? Check the Wiki [and maybe reread/watch the animanga while you're at it]), but my friend and proofreader (the one I keep mentioning and who's obsessed with Matt XD) told me I should change it to bright green because she has a fetish for green eyes.

Don't ask.

* * *

Mello rolled over, pulling the blanket tighter around him, shivering slightly. _Why the_ hell _is it so cold_? He cracked open an eye, glaring annoyedly around the room, vision falling on the open window. His jaw dropped.

He raced out of bed, all complaints about the temperature forgotten, pressing his nose to the window. "No way," he breathed, excitement coursing its way through his veins.

He ran to his closet, fumbling with the door, yanking on the warmest and most comfortable clothes he owned. He ran out his room, rocketing across the hall to bang frantically on Matt's door. "Matt!" he shouted, barely managing to burst through the door straight into the dark-haired boy's room (he had done that once and come out of the ordeal with a black eye and multiple bruises). " _Matt_!" he shouted louder, banging the door so loud he nearly punched a hole in the polished oak.

"Shut up, Mello!" a grumpy-sounding voice shouted from the room next to Matt's.

"No, you!" he shouted back. " _Maaaattttttt_!"

The door flew open, and a grumpy-looking, bleary-eyed boy appeared in front of Mello, rubbing his brilliant green eyes. "What?" he grumbled.

"Have you looked outside?" Mello asked, bursting with excitement, tugging a beanie over his blond hair.

"No," Matt replied, disgruntled. "Because I keep my curtains closed, like a normal person, rather than have them open all night and wake up at the crack of dawn every day."

"Just look outside!" Mello said, getting impatient.

"Mels, it's five in the morning." Matt said, exasperated.

"I believe," a voice piped up from behind them as Near walked forwards, twirling a lock of snowy white hair around his finger. "That Mello is excited because it snowed last night."

"What?" Matt exclaimed, scrambling to get back into his room, yanking back his curtains and wincing at the bright light. "Ouch," he said, shading his eyes with his arms, blocking out the sunshine reflected on the layer of snow that had fallen last night. "Wow."

"Get dressed, Matty!" Mello proclaimed as he helped Near into a white parka that matched his hair and complexion. "We're going outside!"

"No," Matt said, watching Mello wrap a blue scarf around his neck, over his gray, fur-lined parka.

"What do you mean?" Mello asked, pausing in his act of jamming a pair of white earmuffs onto Near's head.

"You're fluent in six different languages, and adequate in three," Near said in a bored monotone, tugging a Gryffindor scarf (a Christmas present from Matt last year) around his neck to give himself some color. "He said no. _Nein_. _Īe_. _Bù_. _Non_. _Ei_. _Ne_ –"

"I get it," he snapped. "Come on, Matt," he wheedled, this time directed at the older boy.

"I've gotten three hours of sleep, Mels," Matt informed him. "And I would like to be coherently functioning for at least a few hours."

"Matty," Mello said, looking completely serious, despite the goofy tone of his voice. "It is snowing. For the first time since February, it is snowing. And we, the top three in the orphanage, are the only ones awake. I doubt even _L's_ awake right now. The three of us are the only ones who are up and at em' right now. The snow is beautiful, fresh, and untouched. When everybody else wakes, it shall be trampled and mixed with mud, dirt, and other muck." upon seeing that Matt was still unconvinced, he added hopefully, "We can build a snowman. . ?"

Matt glanced outside at the fresh, tempting white snow. "Well . . ."

xxx

Beyond leaned against a wall, casually twirling a lollipop around in his fingers. Light lounged in a chair, watching the unconscious form of L. "Are you sure it's working?" he asked, sounding impatient. "Looks like you just knocked him out again."

"Trust the process, buddy," Beyond said, giving the sweet a quick lick. "As with all homemade drugs and concoctions, it has a few quirks and kinks, but," he held up a small vial, grinning from ear to ear. "Solution B _does_ work – I've tested it a few times. And the result is absolutely _hilarious_." he cackled, reminding Light of the Shinigami Ryuk, and sending a chill down his spine.

"I don't see why you don't just tell me his name," Light grumbled. "We have enough space on the scrap of paper for his name, at least, right?"

"No," Beyond mused, eyes narrowing a bit as L twitched in his drug-induced slumber. "For you see, Kira, dear," he grinned as L's eyes began to crack open. "I do _love_ playing with my food before I eat it."

Light sat up sharply in his seat. "He's up."

And so, he was. L lifted his head, looking confused, eyes clouded over with an unnatural sort of glaze.

"Hallucinations," Light said, standing up to move beside Beyond. "He can't see us?"

"No, Light, darling," Beyond shook his head. "We're just here to watch the show."

"He's not doing anything," Light said, frustrated. "I _told_ you – he never gets shaken, he'll just shake things – " he was cut off as L's eyes widened, a terrified scream tearing it's way from the detective's throat. He fumbled back, kicking desperately at the ground, backing into the bedpost, chains clanking from his shaking hands.

Beyond shot an amused glance at Light, who looked duly impressed. "Unshaken, you say?" he asked.

"I take it back," Light said, still managing to look bitter about being wrong through his amusement as they watched L back away from an unseen enemy, looking more terrified than Light had ever felt. "Trauma?" he asked.

"Too much," Beyond said, laughing as a pained scream filled the room. "I've known L a lot longer than you have, Light-o."

* * *

I'm going to focus more on psychological torture rather than physical in this story, because I feel like most fanfictions portray Beyond as a bloodthirsty serial killer, and everybody just kind of forgets that he's a genius, too.

And, another thing, in case you haven't notice, I've had yet _another_ gap between my normally daily uploads. This is because, as I've said, it's finals week for me, and I've run out of pre-written chapters. So I'm going to be posting once every two days rather than every day. The normal update schedule will resume on June 24th (Sunday). Thanks for understanding :)


	17. Chapter 16

L blinked his eyes open, looking around at the messy, cluttered room, confused. _Where am I_? he thought. _I was just in Light's room, with Beyond_. . . he tugged his arms tentatively, just to check that it hadn't all been a terrible dream. The handcuffs clinked ominously, and he scowled. _So, have they moved me? Or_ –

His thoughts were interrupted as the door to the room banged open, and a man stormed into the room, shirt covered in rainwater. L's eyes widened, glancing outside just before the door slammed shut. _London. But who_ –?

The man slouched on the couch, coughing into his fist, hacking furiously. "Beer!" he roared. "Where the hell are you, Lawliet, get your sorry arse down here!" 

_Lawliet_? L gulped as the man's eyes turned to him, and a look of smoldering horror filled his. eyes. He scrambled back, chains suddenly gone. He felt scared, weak and vulnerable. _A child_.

The man stomped forwards, leaning so close that L could smell the rotting smell on his breath. "What do you think you're doing, sitting around?" he growled, flecking L's face in spittle. "Looking at your own father with such _disrespect_?" he smacked L across the face, sending the child flying.

 _Father_? L scrambled up, but was grabbed at the scruff, dragged across the ground. "Stop!" he managed, grabbing at the man. But he was small, and weak. The man paid him no attention, tossing him into a small, cramped closet and slamming the door shut.

"No, wait!" L reached to beat at the door, but heard a lock click and the grating of a chair being leaned up against the handle. "Please!" tears were rolling down his face now, begging and screaming.

"Stay in there until you learn some respect!" his father roared, leaving the room, slamming the door after him. L crouched in the closet, bent over and shaking, crying silently. The walls were close, too close, rubbing against his sides, giving him little room to move. His breath came short, and seemed to fill up the space, shoving him further back. His face was warm with tears, and the heat seemed to press down on him, crushing his breath out of his lungs. He couldn't move, and the closet seemed to shrink with every breath he took and every sob he choked out. He had always had terrible claustrophobia his whole life. _Now, I guess I know why_.

He slipped down the wall, exhaustion getting the better of him, and closed his eyes, falling into a deep sleep.

xxx

Mello rolled the snowball across the ground, gathering more snow and making it bigger and bigger, until it was almost the same height as him, before stopping and positioning it in the center of the courtyard. "This is good," he announced.

Near approached with his own snowball, huffing and puffing with the smaller snowball. He stopped next to the body with a sigh of relief, wiping sweat from his brow. Matt emerged from the bushes, carrying a handful of sticks as Mello helped the younger boy hoist the head onto the body.

"Not good enough," Matt decided. "It needs. . . _personality_."

"You sound like Linda," Near informed him. "That's not good."

Matt didn't reply as he knelt down, gathering a handful of the soft, powdery snow. As he started bunching it into a triangular shape, he said, "Blimey, this snow is, like, really soft. Do you think Roger would let us go skiing or something?"

"Of course not," Near said, as Mello hoisted him up on his shoulders so he could carve out a face in the head. "We're not allowed to leave the grounds, remember?"

"And, besides," Mello grunted, passing a handful of dirt up to Near, who began packing it into the eyes he had created. "Do you even know _how_ to ski?"

"I went on Monty's skateboard, once," Matt defended, smoothing the edges of the triangular chunks of snow he had created. "I'm sure that could translate to snowboarding." he added, standing on his tippy-toes to pack the triangles onto the head. "Hair," he explained to Near, who shot him a quizzical glance.

Mello set Near down less-than gently, letting the little boy tumble into the snow. Matt laughed as he sat up, looking disgruntled. The little boy blended into the snow so well that it was almost impossible to see the difference – if Matt squinted, then Near disappeared completely. _That's probably the only reason he wore the scarf_ , he thought.

"Hmm," Near said, looking up at the snowman from his perch on the ground. "Something about that snowman looks familiar. . ."

Mello laughed, yanking off his bright red beanie and plopping it lopsidedly on the snowman's head. "It's _L_ , you dolt – we made L!" he burst into laughter.

Near observed the figure. It truly _did_ look like L. The spiky hair, sticking up in all different directions, the wide, questioning eyes, and deep, sharp circles under the eyes all gave impression of the world's greatest detective. "Show it to him?" he offered.

Matt giggled into his fist as Mello ran off. "He's going to go mad," he sighed, shaking his head with a grin.

"I don't see why," Near protested. "It's a completely accurate descriptor of him."

* * *

The snowman scene was inspired by the photo I used as a cover ;) take a look at it in case you want to know what the snowman actually looks like B). And, I know it's not a beanie, but, still, what can you do? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	18. Chapter 17

Light watched with muted interest as L trembled in his chains, clouded eyes avoiding the gaze of some unseen enemy. "Huh," he said. "I never knew that L had so many demons."

"More than his fair share," Beyond commented, giggling slightly as L recoiled from some unheard comment, face twisted in distraught. "The blood on our hands?" he nodded at the detective. "Absolutely _nothing_ compared to the amount of death riding on his shoulders." he cackled gleefully. "It's hilarious!"

"The world's greatest detective, the greatest sinner of them all," Light mused. "How poetic."

Beyond was about to reply when the pair heard a voice calling, "L! Oh, L!"

"Mello," Beyond said, standing up into a hunched position, composing his face into a bored mask. Light was almost scared of the sudden transformation. He was nearly identical to the great detective himself.

"Well, Light, I must be off now," he said, speaking in a bored monotone, harsh, silvery tone falling away in favor of a softer British accent that almost completely matched L's voice, down to the last decibel. "I need to see to _my_ successors." he aimed the last part at L, who chose that moment to let out a pained cry. _Thank god for soundproof walls_. "Do keep our dear friend occupied."

"Don't worry," Light said. "He's doing just fine on his own."

xxx

The moment L's eyes dropped closed, he was in a completely different setting. He looked around. Rolling hills, tall dried grasses, rustling lazily just below his waist. He ran a hand through the harsh blades, rubbing one between his fingers. The sky was blue, but cloudless – there was a feeling in the air, as if there was more going on with the beautiful scene than first met the eye. L breathed the dry air through his mouth. _There's practically no water in the air – my skin's prickling. A drought, maybe? But why aren't there any people_?

As if the haunting image had read his mind, the grass began rustling faster somewhere to his left. He turned, but the rustling moved with him, and he spun in a circle, until he realized the rustling had encircled him, tracing a ring in the grass. From the grass rose people, all of them whom he recognized, and all of them with identical looks of pure hatred on their faces.

 _Oh, my god_ , he thought, heart racing as he surveyed the faces. Logically, he knew that there was only enough room in the ring for a maximum of about ten people, but he saw far more. As he turned, the faces changed. _Raye Penber, Naomi Misora, Ukita. . . is that Deneuve? Oh, god, A. . ._

"You destroyed us," the once-beautiful face of Marie Deneuve twisted into an expression of pained fury, fingers reaching up to trace the obvious bruises of a noose encircling her neck.

"Some of us indirectly," A snarled, her formerly gentle smile a cold sneer, dragging fingernails harshly over gashes on her wrists that had stopped bleeding nearly a decade ago.

"Others with your own hands," a tall man, hair pulled back into a ponytail and teardrop tattoo evident beneath his eye fingered an evident bullet hole in his chest, playing with the bloodstained fabric of his shirt.

"Some you claimed to be inevitable," a woman with burnt, blackened features snarled, voice harsh and raspy, as if she was speaking through a mouthful of flames.

"Others were _accidents_ ," a young boy with a chunk of glass sticking out of the side of his head said, voice dripping with sarcasm in tune with the blood that dripped from the wound.

"Some of us were disposed of simply for being _in the way_ ," Raye Penber's face was contorted into an eternal expression of pain, froth spilling out of the side of his mouth.

"And all of us are dead because of _you_." the chorus of voices shouted in sync, overwhelming and crushing. L fell to the ground with a scream, covering his ears and closing his eyes tightly. But he could still hear the shouts, the wails, the cries of accusation. Though he was surrounded by less than ten people, he could hear the grief of thousands.

"Stop!" he shouted, unable to stop the tears from leaking out beneath his eyelids. "Stop, please, just _stop_!"

"Hear how he begs!" a tall, broad man in a tattered S.W.A.T. uniform crowed, bloodied hands clawing at L.

"The great detective, weak!" a young girl with flowing blond hair groaned, skull dented and eyes crushed.

"Stop, please!" L cowered, shutting his eyes. He felt something roll down his wrist and looked up. He gasped. His hands were covered in slick, warm blood, pouring from his palms like a never-ending fountain. He stood up, wiping his hands frantically on his jeans, but the blood kept coming. It ran down his arms, dripped on the ground, until he was standing in a pool of deepest red.

"Whose blood is it?" he croaked out, voice shaky.

"Does it matter?" an old man with his head hanging on a strange angle growled, shaking his walker. "You would just rinse it off, like all the other blood on your hands!"

The blood was coming faster, sinking into the ground, which was quickly becoming slick and muddy. It tugged at L's feet, pulling him in.

Suddenly, the ground lurched, sending his stumbling forwards, landing at the feet of the old man. The old man leaned over him, baring dentures, fury evident in his gaze. "You deserve the death that has been wrought onto us."

"I'm sorry!" L cried, aware of a definite buzz in the air. No, not a buzz. Crackling. The crackling of flames. His head shot up, and he saw flames burning through the dry fields, devouring everything in their path. They wrapped around the specters, consuming them in the inferno. They chased up the dried stalks of grass, lighting them up like horrific Roman candles.

"Just kill me!" L screamed, tears now racing down his face, despite the dry, burning air around him. "I'm sorry! I know, I deserve death! So just _kill me_!"

"Kill you?" the old man leaned forwards. The flames had wrapped around him like a morbid curtain, flaking off his flesh and pulverizing his bones. His skull was practically glowing, and L could see the outline of his molten, skeletal grin through the scowl on his face. "No, Lawliet," he hissed, voice in tune with the flames that began to encircle L. "You do not die!" he howled as the flames began licking up L's sleeves. "You will live – you will live and remember. Every time somebody dies for your sake, you will feel it. You may don a mask and hide yourself from the world, claiming it to be for the sake of others, but you are a _coward_ , L. Lawliet." the fire had completely destroyed L's shirt, which hung off him in blackened tatters, but, for some reason, his ethereal pale skin remained untouched. "You will pay for that cowardice every day."

L's tears had stopped – what was the point? The fire had engulfed him, charring his hair and searing his skin. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, voice quiet and muffled by the flames. "I'm _sorry_."

The old man stepped back, now nothing but a smoking hunk of ashy flesh, barely clinging on to a blackened skeleton. "It's time to wake up, Lawliet."

* * *

The hallucination scene was inspired by Bellamy's hallucination in _The 100_ (you know, when it was still a good show, before the Arkadians came down and he turned into an asshole).


	19. Chapter 18

Oh, jeez, I completely forgot to upload for the past two days O-O A bunch of stuff just happened all at once, and I blanked. BUT, I have something that may make up for it at the bottom of the chapter ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º)

* * *

L's eyes shot open with a gasp, and he sat up, looking around frantically.

"You're up," a voice commented, and L turned his head to see Light sitting in his plush seat, looking at him coldly. "How were your dreams?"

L glanced over at the bedside table where a bottle and syringe were placed. White-hot anger surged through him. "LSD?"

"Solution B, actually," Light stood up gracefully. "Beyond's own concoction – horrifying, isn't it?" he sneered. "But it was rather fun to watch you thrashing around and screaming. I got a lot of absolutely _wonderful_ ideas from your shouting." he waved a sheet of paper teasingly. "Claustrophobia, hmm?"

L paled, and Light laughed wickedly. "Oh, yes, L – your screams of terror were _so_ fascinating. . . I can't wait to hear more." he chuckled as L yanked on the chain. "Do you think a cardboard box is small enough? Maybe a trash bag. . ."

"What happened to you?" Light started. "What happened to your justice? Sure, it was twisted, but it was still _justice_. Not torture, or aimless murder."

Light glared at him. "You want to know what happened, L? You. You happened. You ruined everything I was working for. You destroyed _me_!"

 _You destroyed us_. The words Deneuve had spoken flowed through L's mind.

"And, now," Light growled, storming forwards, clenching his fist. "I'm going to destroy _you_."

L opened his mouth to reply before Light's fist connected with his face.

xxx

Mello ran into L in the front hall. "Hey, L!"

"Mello," the detective said. "May I inquire why you decided to wake up half the orphanage at six in the morning?"

"I wanted to show you something!" Mello bounced up and down excitedly. "Come on!" he grabbed onto L's hand, dragging him outside.

"Mello, it's snowing," L protested. "At least let me grab a coat."

"Hurry up!" Mello tapped his foot impatiently as L tugged a brown overcoat from the hooks by the door. " _Now_ can we go?" he asked as L wrapped a purple-y-gray scarf around his neck.

L chuckled. "I'm coming, I'm coming – lead the way."

Mello pushed the door open, running out into the snow. L followed, hunched over and wrinkling his nose as the snow seeped into his boots. "How much did it snow last night?"

"A lot!" Mello replied, running back to grab L's hand and tug him forwards. As he did this, he frowned. _Why's his hand so greasy_? He let go of L's hand and looked at his own. "Ew!" he said, wrinkling his nose.

"What is it?" L asked, looking worried.

Mello held up his hand, which was covered in white grease. "It's like Edna's makeup," he said, sticking his tongue out. "Why was that on your hand?"

L looked at his hand, frowning. "Dunno," he wiped it quickly in the snow. "Probably just some of Linda's new paints."

"Huh," Mello frowned. "Well, come on!" he ran forwards, to where Near and Matt were waiting with the snowman.

"Took you long enough!" Matt called. "Look, L!"

The three orphans posed in front of the snowman, throwing their arms up and beaming as if they had created some majestic work of art. L stared at it for a while, looking dumbstruck until, finally, opening his mouth. "Is that a Totoro?"

"No!" Mello pouted, and Matt laughed. "It's _you_!"

"I see," L's finger hung from his lower lip, giving him an astounded, deer-in-the-headlights look. "However, I was under the impression that I was talking to Matt, Near, and Mello, not Linda."

Apparently, this was the worst insult that anyone could ever utter, judging by the horrified looks on the boys' faces. L laughed. "Just kidding."

Matt frowned. _Since when did L kid_?

xxx

Anthony looked out of his window, watching the children as they showed their snowman to L. The youth said something, and all three boys made expressions of disgust.

Nate – no, Near, his name was _Near_ – was barely distinguishable from the snow as L picked him up and gestured at the rest of the children to follow him inside. He watched the group walk inside, looking cheerful. He sighed, putting his drink down and sitting down heavily on the huge, four-poster bed that Wammy's House had provided him with. _I shouldn't concern myself with him_ , he thought, rubbing his forehead. _My job is to protect the children, not interfere with their lives_. He sighed. _I gave up the right to see him as anything other than a charge years ago_. He put his face in his hands. _But. . . there's just something about L that's been bothering me. He hasn't been stressed about security at all, not since a few days ago. It's like he changed_.

He groaned. _What's going on_?

* * *

Whoot, that was short O_o But, I have an announcement! From now on, I will be doing something I've _never_ done before (or, at least, not bery well/succesfully/with efficiency). I will be writing two fanfictions at once! Whaaaaaaa

Seriously, though. I'm going to be posting my new fanfiction, _Angel of Hell_ , in a few days. It's going to be a Phantom of the Opera fanfiction, as the title suggests. It's also going to be the only fanfic that I've ever written that doesn't have a Shakespearean/Biblical quote as a title. As I've said, every time that I've tried writing more than one fanfiction at once, it get's really tedious, and I work really slowly. _But_ , summer has just started for me, and I'm going to have a LOT of time on my hands, so I decided to put it to good use :) So, if you're a Phan (like me ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º)), then make sure to keep an eye out for _Angel of Hell_!


	20. Chapter 19

Light stood in front of L, breathing heavily, massaging his sore, bloody fist, glaring down at the detective. L glared back – well, glared as much as he was able to through his swollen eye.

Light had been ruthless. Blood was dripping steadily from a split lip and beneath L's hair, staining his shirt. One eye was puffy, and the other was matted with blood. His arms had been slashed repeatedly with a knife that Beyond had thoughtfully left behind, and a red stain was spreading from somewhere beneath his shirt.

"Are you done?" L managed to ask, voice slightly distorted by the blood in his mouth.

Light glared at him, before punching him hard in the stomach. L bent over with a grunting gasp, coughing. Light stepped back, wiping the blood off his fist. " _Now_ I'm done."

He flopped on the bed, watching as L coughed, blood dripping from his mouth. He glared furiously, clenching his already-sore fist. _All that, and he didn't scream once._ He clenched his teeth so hard he felt his jaw pop. _Just what will it take to_ break _him_?

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _I wonder_. . . _what did he see that scared him so badly_?

xxx

Beyond sat crouched in L's room, sorting through the pile of cases on his table. _Lazy bum_ , he thought. He tugged one out at random, skimming it before tossing it over his shoulder. _Boring_.

He sighed. L's life was a lot more uneventful than he had thought. The most interesting thing that had happened was he successors building a snowman of L. _Or me, now, I guess_ , he grinned wickedly.

He tugged a case out from the bottom, narrowing his eyes. _Well, now, this is interesting_ , he mused. _Kidnapping of five_?

He was about to open up L's – _his_ – laptop, when he paused, cursing himself. _Idiot. The bastard only takes cases with a body count over ten, or a million dollars at stake_. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and dropped the sheet. _Damn – that would have been a good one, too_.

He was rifling through the cases when he stopped noticing something. He quickly rifled back, tugging the paper out. His eyes widened as he read it over. _Oh, yes. . ._ he giggled. _Yes, yes,_ yes.

He grabbed L's – goddamnit, _his_ – phone from the desk and dialed Watari's number. "L?" Watari asked. "I'm in the living room, you know – it wouldn't kill you to walk a hundred feet."

"Of course," Beyond said. "It's just that I've found a case that I'm interested in taking on. . ."

"I'll be right up." the line beeped and Beyond put the phone down with a grin. He chuckled, letting the paper float down onto the ground. _Finding the missing crown jewels. . . now, that's something Lawli could never claim to have done. He's always been better at murders and kidnappings than locating things_.

He smiled, grin tinted with the touch of a madman.f _Now, L. Now, I'm going to do what you never did_.

 _Just you see_.

xxx

Matt sighed as Linda held her thumb out, scrunching up her nose as she checked his measurements. "Are you done?"

"Wait," she leaned back, the stepladder she was standing on teetering dangerously. "Hold it still," she instructed Mello, who stood beneath her, holding the ladder. "If I fall, it'll be your fat head I land on."

Matt groaned as she gestured at Near to hand her her palate. "We asked you to get us a free room for thirty minutes, and you tell us to help you for three hours? Where's the justice in that?" he waved his hands exasperatedly.

"Freeze!" Linda said excitedly, holding her hand out like a camera. Matt froze. "Great – now, hold that pose for another month." she quickly dabbed some paint onto her canvas.

Right then, the door to the library burst open, and Rue ran in. "Guys!" he panted, bending over. "Guys, I – why is Matt sitting on the window?"

"Good question," Matt commented.

"What is it?" Near asked, looking up at Rue (despite being a good six months older than him, the white-haired boy stubbornly remained a half-inch shorter).

Rue glanced at Linda, who rolled her eyes and muttered something along the lines of 'boys'. She hopped off the ladder, shot Matt a very pointed stare, and marched out of the room. "I'll be back in eight minutes, and if Matt's moved even an inch, it'll be all of your arses!"

The moment the library doors slammed shut, Matt hopped off the high window ledge, landing on the pile of cushions they had placed there earlier with a 'fwoomp'.

"Bad idea, mate," Mello sighed, shaking his head.

"She'll never notice," Matt protested.

"It's Linda – I saw her measure a bush once to check if a leaf had moved," Near said.

"Guys!" Rue interrupted, puffing up his cheeks with all the ferocity of a toddler threatening to throw a tantrum (wait. . .). "It's L!"

That caught the attention of the successors at once. "What?" the three asked in unison.

"It's L!" Rue repeated. "He's not L!"

"That," Mello decided. "Makes no sense."

"I mean," Rue put his face in his hands, tugging at his black locks. "He's different! Maybe he's drunk, or something – "

"Unlikely," Near interrupted.

"Well, then the guy prancing around, giving Watari orders and telling orphans stories about princesses and talking animals isn't L!" Rue said, sounding frustrated.

The three top-ranked successors shared a look. "And you know this, how?" Matt asked.

"It's just this weird feeling," Rue explained, looking frustrated. "Here," he added, putting a fist to his chest. "Like, it kind of felt pull-y, and then twisted a bit when he walked past me."

Near nodded at him, as if his explanation made perfect sense. "That makes perfect sense."

"Totally," Mello added.

"Completely," Matt said. "Well, we'll sort this out, okay?"

Rue beamed and raced out of the room.

The moment they were sure that the boy was out of earshot, the successors glanced at each other. "A _feeling_?" Mello whispered. "We're just supposed to listen to that?"

"Well," Matt said slowly. "He did seem kind of. . . detatched this morning."

"And he _did_ have greasy white stuff on his hand," Near said.

"Makeup?" Mello suggested.

"Completely possible," Matt offered.

"Still, this is all based on the gut feeling of a five-year old." Mello protested. "A _gut feeling_! What we were specifically trained _not_ to follow."

"I think L's broken that rule about eighty times," Near mumbled, and, louder, "But, still, Mello, don't you think that L's IVF backup having a gut feeling would make sense?"

Mello hesitated, and Near took his opportunity. "It's worth looking into," he said.

Mello sighed. "Fine. But if we get in trouble, it was Matt's idea."


	21. Chapter 20

L leaned against the bedpost, looking at the wall across from him. Light was lying on the bed, reading a book. He bit his lip angrily. _These two_. . .

The door crashed open, and Beyond strolled in, pinching a sheet of paper in between his thumb and forefinger. Light glanced up, before looking down again, evidently bored. Beyond skipped forwards, waving the paper before L's eyes. "You know what this is, Ellie?"

L glared at him without responding, and Beyond giggled. "No? I'll tell you," he folded the paper and tucked it into his jeans' pocket. "A _case_." he grinned at L's furious expression. "That's right, Lawli – I'm taking a case." he cackled like a madman. "A case to find the missing crown jewels, at that!"

L yanked on his chain, jolting forwards. Light started, but Beyond remained still. He cracked a grin. "You don't scare me, L – you never have, and you never will."

"That carelessness will cost you your life one day," L hissed. Beyond cocked and eyebrow mockingly.

"No, Lawli," he purred. "If anybody's dying here," his eyes flicked to a point just above L's head, and he sneered. "It'll be you."

xxx

Matt wobbled on Mello's shoulders, holding up Near, who clung onto the windowsill, peeking over it. "What do you see?"

"Um, L – argh!" Near's fingers slipped off the edge, and he fell on Matt. Matt squawked, flailing his arms and tumbling off the empty platform, dragging Mello with him.

The trio landed in a pile of pillows that they, thankfully, as geniuses, had thought to place underneath the platform where a gargoyle had formerly stood (the gargoyle had vanished mysteriously a few nights ago – nobody seemed to know where it had gone, thought a few interesting theories had surfaced).

Mello sat up with a groan, rubbing his rear. "Ow, Near! Why'd you have to slip?"

"It was an accident!" Near protested, picking himself up.

"Forget it, what did you see?" Matt asked, untangling his limbs from Mello's.

"L was leaning over something," Near said, standing up and stepping off the cushions. "He seemed pretty happy. He was waving a piece of paper around, too."

"L? Waving a piece of paper?" Matt asked incredulously. "That's impossible."

"He'd normally never print something out – security, and all that," Mello said. "And he doesn't seem like the type of guy who'd have a secret meme collection."

Near sighed. "Results inconclusive – this is harder than I thought."

xxx

That night found the three successors with their ears pressed tight to L's door – Matt and Mello sharing the crack between the door and the floor, and Near standing on Mello's back to hold his ear by the keyhole.

"Nothing but a whole bunch of typing," Mello sighed, standing up, effectively knocking Near to the ground. "This is pointless – are we seriously investigating L because Rue had a 'feeling'?"

"L investigates based on gut feelings," Matt pointed out.

"Because he's had over a decades' worth of experience in the field!" Mello threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "Seriously – all we're doing is embarrassing ourselves and getting hurt."

Near pouted. "But I was having fun," he said sadly, looking at the door.

"Too bad, cotton fluff," Mello said, crossing his arms grumpily. "Face it – Rue's just a kid, and the gut feeling could have been anything from an ulcer to a bad curry."

Near looked down sadly, and Matt sighed. "It's okay, Near – we'll get some cases later, when we're older."

"I guess," Near said, sounding disappointed, as the older boys led him down the stairs.

Inside the room, Beyond sat, crouched on L's chair, a grin on his face. _Did they honestly think I wouldn't hear them_?

* * *

Sorry for the short chapter – I'm currently on vacation, and have been working on both this story and _Angel of Death_ (which is now up ;)) in my spare time, which is very little.


	22. Chapter 21

L had fallen asleep.

He didn't know how, and he didn't know when – but what he _did_ know was that, one moment, he was awake and yanking at the chains with all his might, despite knowing full well that they wouldn't snap, and the next, he was lying on the ground, blinking his eyes open and yawning like a newborn kitten.

He sat up, rubbing at his eyes. He hadn't recalled closing his eyes, or even feeling tired, but he supposed that was the whole point of sleep. He yawned again, lifting his arms above his head and stretching.

He froze. _Wait_. He dropped his arms, looking at his wrists. Yes! The chains were gone! He tried moving his legs, and gasped. _The paralytic's worn off_. He stood up. He was no longer near the bed, now in the center of the room, by the bookshelf. Yes, he had definitely been lying down away from the bed.

"But, how. . ?" he frowned, suddenly realizing something. He was alone. There was nobody else in the room. His breath caught in his throat, and he looked around frantically, searching for Light, hoping, for once, to see the mass murderer. _He's not here_.

 _Then, they must have removed his tracker_! L scratched his neck furiously. _But that can't be possible! Watari programmed it so that it connected to his nervous system_ – he stopped, finger hovering over a mark on his neck. He quickly rubbed at it again. _Injection_. He bit his lip. _Damnit – they had knockout drugs. Beyond must have put Light to sleep and_ then _removed the tracker_. He felt like hitting himself.

 _But, then_ , he contemplated. _Why would I have been put out as well? It's not like I would have interfered. ._. a sudden realization dawned on him, and he began running his hand over his skin. _It can't be_. . . he clenched his teeth as his fingers traced over a bump in his flesh, just a tad bit redder than his normal skin tone.

He slumped on the bed, head in his hands. _Insufferable bastards_ , he seethed furiously, fingers twisting into his hair.

He didn't notice the pair of wide grey eyes watching him from the window.

xxx

The door to the library banged open for the second time that week, this time causing a few books to fall from the higher shelves. Linda made an incoherent noise as she set down her paintbrush, turning around so quickly that Mello had to tilt the ladder the other way to keep her from falling off.

"Hey, Rue!" Matt waved cheerily, earning him a furious glare from Linda.

"Hand!" she hissed.

"Yes, ma'am," Matt said, quickly returning to his pose.

"Are you okay, Rue?" Near asked, standing on his tip-toes to let Linda swab a bit of red paint off the palette he held. "You look a little flushed. And. . . insane."

"It's L!" Rue exclaimed, like that explained everything.

"That's what you said last time," Linda snarled, swiping furiously at Matt's hair on the canvas. "And all that you did was make my paints dry up and Matt move from his pose – yes, Matt, I saw that , don't even _think_ about doing it again!"

"Please, Linda?" Rue clasped his hands and looked up at Linda, pouting and, by some sorcery, summoning a tear to the corner of his huge grey eyes. "Pwetty, pwetty, please wiff cherries on top?"

Linda glared at him, before storming down the ladder (well, as much as one can storm while climbing down a ladder) and stomping out of the library yet again. "Five minutes!" she shouted, door slamming behind her.

Rue hopped up and down impatiently as Near and Mello walked over. "What's wrong with L this time, Rue?" Mello asked, barely able to mask his impatience.

"I'm going to tell you!" Rue sounded infuriated that the top two doubted his talking skills. "Matt!" he screeched, and Near slammed his hands over his ears.

"Sorry, buddy," Matt said, sounding truly regretful. "But Linda took my PSP, and she threatened to burn it if I move."

"L's in trouble!" Rue shouted, seeming to be on the verge of tears. "He's in Kira's room, and he's locked up, and he's got a weird SD card in his arm!"

Mello's and Near's jaws dropped, and Matt fell off the windowsill (thankfully, the cushions were still there). "What?" the three geniuses asked in unison.

Rue puffed up his cheeks, as if indignant that they hadn't heard him the first time. "L. Locked up. Weird microchip in arm. Need help!" he simplified.

Mello blinked. "And _where_ did you see this from?" he asked.

"The window," Rue supplied. "Somebody removed the gargoyle just under the windowsill – someone should really get that replaced."


	23. Chapter 22

"Dang!" Mello complained, gritting his teeth. "Shoot! Crap! Fu –"

"Language, Mello," Near interrupted, calmly stroking the hair of one of his many finger puppets.

"Shut up, _Near_ ," Mello snarled venomously, dropping his lock-picking tools. "You're not even doing anything!"

"Because you and Matt already claimed all of the good jobs," Near replied. "I'm just watching you fail."

"Why, you little –"

"Can you two just _shut up_?" Matt snapped, showing a rare display of aggressiveness. The other two slammed their mouths shut, surprised at the normally gentle Matt speaking so coarsely. "L is most likely in danger, and you two can't even bother to stop bickering!" he narrowed his eyes, lines of code reflected in his orange goggles.

The other two shuffled their feet, looking awkward. Matt looked up, obviously irritated. "That doesn't mean you're supposed to stop working," he said. "The auto-lock's only one layer of defense! Keep picking, for Pete's sake!"

Mello quickly returned to his jiggling of the over-complicated lock, and Near continued to wave around his finger puppet. Finally, almost half an hour later, there was a click, and Mello slid his tools out, a grin spreading over his face. At the same time, Matt pressed a button on his keyboard, and there was a beep. The door swung open.

The three boys ran into the room. "L?" Mello asked. "L!"

L was indeed there, hands on the windowsill, leaned over the side. He whirled around, eyes widening. "Mello?" he asked, sounding almost like he didn't believe it. "Matt? Near?"

"L!" Matt ran forwards and threw his arms around the detective. L gasped, face contorting into an expression of pain, but smiling nonetheless.

Near gave the detective a quick once-over. He looked like he had had better days – his shirt was covered in dried blood, one of his eyes was bruised shut, and there was a dried line of blood originating from somewhere under his hair. There was what looked like either a small stab wound, or a very large paper cut under his shirt, and, judging from the way he was holding himself, it looked like he had an injured rib, fractured at the very least. His hair was even more unruly than ever, looking even worse for wear with dried blood caking the once-silky locks, and the bags under his eyes seemed to have sharpened by at least ten times.

"What," he asked. "In the name of all things mechanical and manufactured in China, happened to you?"

"And why," Mello added, crossing his arms. "Is there an uninjured doppelganger of you walking around the House?"

L's un-blackened eye narrowed. "Uninjured doppelganger?"

"Yeah," Matt said, releasing L, having noticed his pained expression. "Some dude looking exactly like you, walking around, wearing your clothes, living in your room, eating your candy, doing your job –"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Mello suddenly shouted, waving his hands around in the air, eyes narrowing. "You," he pointed at L. "Are L. But he," Mello hesitated, not knowing where to point, settling for waving his index finger vaguely in the air. "Is also L." he planted his hands on his hips and frowned enigmatically, looking very stately and regal. "How can this be?"

"Mello, you're a detective, not a philosopher." Matt said exasperatedly.

"Well, maybe I should consider a profession change!" Mello crossed his arms, squinting at L. "You, sir," he pointed at the detective. "Are under suspicion for not being who you say you are, as is the unidentified other L running around the House, who could potentially be either the real L, or the fake L, therefore making you the real L, meaning. . ." the blond trailed off, frowning as he lost track of his words. "I'm confused." he admitted.

"That makes two of us," Matt grumbled.

"Allow me to simplify your enigma," Near offered. "There are currently to Ls in the House – the original, and a carbon copy. The one standing before us is either the real or the fake. The only way to determine the identity of this one," he waved at L, who looked halfway bemused and halfway impatient at being treated like an online trivia, "Is to ask him something that only the true L would know."

"Yes!" Mello jumped in front of L, pointing imperiously at him. "What," he asked, voice low and serious. "Did you get me for my birthday last year?"

L looked at him, before saying, slowly, as if explaining to an over-emotional toddler than one plus one equals two, "Chocolate. I got you chocolate, Mello. I get you chocolate every year. _Everybody_ gets you chocolate every year."

"Too easy," Matt scoffed, shoving his friend out of the way. "How many times have you lost to me in Mario Kart?"

"I've lost count."

"I know," Near said, voice low. The other three looked at him, eyebrows cocked, as if to say, 'Well?' "Who found me?" he asked.

L blinked a few times. "I did," he said. "When some guy dropped you on the doorstep, when I was sixteen."

Near smiled, and Mello scoffed. "At least his ego's good for _something_?"

" _You're_ talking about _his_ ego?"

"Shut up, Matty!"

"Now, for the important question," Near said, ignoring the bickering of the other two. "Why are you so messed up?" he gestured at the detective.

L sighed. "The simple version, or the extended edition with subtitles?"

xxx

Mello's head reeled with the information that he had learned. "So, you're saying," he said. "That Kira and Beyond Birthday are somewhere in the house –"

"—unchecked –" Matt interrupted.

"—and unguarded—" Near added.

"—and that they've kept you in here for the past week, did _this_ –" he waved at L's bloodied form, "—because. . . _why_?"

"I don't know, Mello," L said sarcastically. "Maybe because I put both of them away and destroyed their lives, and they both hate me with an unmatched, murderous vengeance?"

"No, that can't be it, it's way too obvious," Matt said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Near asked, uncharacteristically determined. "Let's go find them."

"And whoop their sorry asses," Mello added.

L hesitated, "I. . ." he glanced at his arm, and Matt felt a pang of guilt run through his chest.

"Oh, right," he looked at the lump where the tracker was imbedded. "Uh. . ." he looked at the other two successors, but they both looked blank. "We could remove it?" he suggested awkwardly.

L grit his teeth, as if steeling himself. "Don't look," he said.

"Why?" Mello asked, oblivious, even as Near and Matt turned their heads away, shutting their eyes and covering their ears. "What are you gonna – hey!"

Matt had grabbed Mello's head, wrenching him to the side, turning him away from L. But even that didn't stop them from hearing a sharp, guttural intake of breath and the sound of tearing flesh.

"Oh, my god," Matt gagged, releasing Mello to cover his mouth as the metallic stench of blood filled the room. Near sat on the bed, eyes squeezed shut and hands held tight over his ears. Mello turned around and nearly choked up his dinner.

L spat a chunk of bloody flesh out of his mouth, coughing, and hacking, flecks of red flying from his mouth and lips bright, sickeningly red. Blood oozed from the wound made by the hunk of meat being torn from his arm, dripping onto the bedspread. The offending hunk of meat sat on the ground between his feet, a small microchip just barely visible, a tiny light blinking.

L exhaled, face contorted in pain. "Good – I didn't set it off."

"Here," Matt said, tugging the pillow out of the silky pillowcase and making to bandage L's arm. "Let me help."

"Hurry," L said, managing to stand up even as Matt wrapped the linen around his wound. "We need to find Light and Beyond right now – before they do something we all regret."

* * *

The whole 'rip out tracker with teeth like a barbarian' thing was inspired by Anya removing the tracker the Mountain Men had put in her arm in. . . what, season one? (I just noticed that this fanfiction draws a _lot_ of inspiration from The 100. . . -_-;,)


	24. Chapter 23

L and the boys ran down the hallways, poking their heads into every room they came across.

"They're not in any of them!" L gasped, stopping by the main hall, leaning against a wall and panting. Near frowned. They hadn't stopped to consider L's state before running off to find the two serial killers – if they really had broken a rib, then all this running could cause some major damage. He shook his head. They could deal with that later.

"Maybe they're in some common area," Matt suggested, looking around. "Like, the library –"

"Let's go," L interrupted, running off for the library. They were very close when they heard a child speaking.

"What was your name again?"

"Tsuki," a familiar voice said, sending a chill down L's spine. He stopped, putting a finger to his lips. "Tsuki Asahi."

"That's a weird name," another kid said.

"It's _Japanese_ ," a voice, so similar to L's that the successors flinched, informed the child. "Don't be rude."

L ground his teeth, stepping out from behind the wall. "Yes, _Beyond_ ," he snarled, ignoring the horrified gasps of the children. "Don't be rude. It's horribly unkind."

Beyond's eyes narrowed and he stood up. L's heart wrenched as the children all scooted closer to him and Light, who sat next to him on the couch, glaring at L, gnashing his teeth furiously.

Beyond stood up. "Who the hell are _you_?" he snapped. "And how did you get in here?"

"I could be asking you the same thing," L said. "And I'm pretty sure you know how I got here, considering you locked me in a room and shoved a tracker in my arm." he held up his arm, wrapped in reddened cloth.

Beyond sighed. "So, you got it out – well, in that case, I guess it's useless to keep up the charade." in an instant, Light had grabbed one of the children, and holding him by the neck. The child's eyes widened as he stood, quivering, in the grasp of a madman. _Rue_.

Beyond wiped a hand across his face, wiping away a layer of makeup, revealing a streak of his true skin and burn scars. "This is what's going to happen, L," he hissed, sliding a knife out from beneath his shirt. "You," he pointed the knife at L, "Are going to obey every order I give you, or else _he_ ," he swung the knife at Rue, the point just barely missing the tip of his nose. The child let out a squeak of terror. "Dies. Got it?"

L scowled but didn't do anything to counteract Beyond. Beyond nodded. "Good," he walked forwards, out of the range of the children, focusing solely on L. L clenched his fist at his side as Beyond neared, barely a foot away from him. _Now, Matt_!

There was a horrible, strangled scream from behind Beyond, and he whirled around, eyes widening with shock as Light convulsed, shaking and fell to the ground, releasing Rue and twitching every now and then. As this happened, L swooped forwards, grabbing the hilt of Beyond's knife and wrenching it away.

But, as it happened, Beyond was not quite so stunned as he might have seemed. He retaliated quickly, kicking L in the shin. The knife skittered to the side and the two men lunged for it, grappling at each other, exchanging punches and scratches. L clawed his way out of the killer's grip, scrabbling forwards for the knife. Beyond snarled, grabbing L's leg and yanking him back. L shouted, kicking out and striking Beyond in the face. He shrieked, letting go, and L grabbed the knife. Beyond got to his feet, lunging at L's back. He fell to his knees, struck by the weight of the other man.

They grappled, both trying to get the knife and avoiding getting cut at the same time. Beyond grabbed L's wrist, turning it so that the blade cut into his side. L gasped as Beyond squeezed L's wrist, his arm shaking with the effort of keeping hold of the blade. He bit Beyond in the shoulder causing the other man to scream and let go of his hand. L jerked his arm away, blade flying in front of his face. At the same time, Beyond lunged forwards, eyes wild with fury. His roar of anger was cut off.

L's eyes widened with shock as his face was splattered with fresh blood. Beyond's mouth opened and closed wordlessly, a gurgle rising from his throat. The man jerked back, and L dropped the knife, fingers numb. Blood gushed from Beyond's severed jugular, his fingers groping for it, desperately attempting to stem the flow. But it was to late – he fell to his knees, and then on his face, quivering before falling still, blood staining the great carpet.

There would be no moment of silence for the killer, for, seconds after he stopped moving, another figure slammed into L. Light Yagami, who had somehow crawled back to his feet, rammed L into the door and out of the room, so that the two wrestled on the side of the grand staircase. "Damn you!" Light screeched, incensed beyond reason. "Bastard!"

He slammed L against a banister, and the detective coughed, a bit of blood flecking Light's face. He yanked L up again, slamming him back against the banister. "You've ruined everything!" he screeched. _Slam_. "Everything!" _Slam_.

L coughed, vision blurring, grabbing weakly at Light's shoulders. He mustered up his last remaining bit of strength to pull his leg and kick Light sharply in the gut.

Kira fell backwards, losing his balance and falling down the stairs. He tumbled down, banging against every step, bouncing like a rubber ball. His shouts fell silent as he landed on the lower floor, a sharp crack echoing through the house.

* * *

The next chapter will be the last! Thanks for reading this story :) It hasn't been my best work, but the entire plot in it of itself is definitely very near (hahaha. . .) and dear to me. The story is one I've been keeping in the back of my mind since the first time I watched Death Note; however, it didn't turn out exactly as I planned once I put it in words.

Moral of the story: use plot sheets, kids.


	25. Chapter 24

L sat on the top step, elbows leaning on his knees, head down, hair hanging in front of his face. He watched through the curtain of dark locks as two bodies hidden safely in body bags were rolled out of the house. A paramedic was speaking to Roger, who looked rather hassled. The paramedic said something, waving his hands around agitatedly. Roger shook his head and, looking around to make sure none of the other emergency services saw him, slipped the doctor a wad of pound notes. The doctor's eyes widened, and he looked at Roger, a look of shock under his mask. Roger waved his hand, and the paramedic nodded hastily, turning and shouting something at his underlings.

"L," L turned around, seeing Watari standing behind him. "You should really head up to the infirmary. I need to treat your wounds –"

"No, Watari," L interrupted, shaking his head. "Later."

Watari hesitated, then sighed. He turned and walked off. As he left, he whispered, "I'm sorry," L's lip twitched as the two words drifted past his ear.

There was the sound of footsteps approaching, and he glanced up yet again to see his three successors approaching him. Mello sat down right next to him, Near claiming the other side, leaving Matt to squish in next to Mello, squeezing as close to L as he could.

"Are you okay?" Matt asked, and L blinked in surprise.

"Of course," L turned his face away, and came nose-to-nose with Near, his huge grey eyes boring into his bottomless black ones.

"You don't have to lie," Near said bluntly, turning a finger puppet around on his index. "You're allowed to be sad."

L turned away again, looking forwards, but not really seeing what was going on. "I. . ." he hesitated, before continuing. "My heart hurts," he said tentatively, a hand reaching up to brush his chest. "But. . . not in the way that you would expect from an illness or injury." he stopped, moistening his lips, unsure of what to say. "It's tugging; pulling, really. I'm not sure what it's supposed to mean."

Mello and Matt shared a glance, and Near averted his gaze. L nodded quietly to himself. He hadn't expected them to respond either.

Nobody noticed him slip a tiny, crumpled-up sheet of paper into his pocket.

xxx

 _Beyond Birthday, stab wound_. _January 21, 5:25 p.m_.

 _夜神月_ _, snapped neck. January 21, 5:27 p.m_.

* * *

Explanations

 **Rue** : A child version of Ryuzaki from _Light Up the NEW World/Death Note: New Generation_ (I personally think that the beforementioned live-actions aren't actually that bad. . . as movies. As a part of the Death Note franchise, they are a disgrace; kind of like _Solo_ , really). Ryuzaki is the 'true successor of L', who solves cases under the same alias that L and Beyond went under. I felt like just right-out calling him Ryuzaki would be a bit confusing, so I called him Rue, instead (I didn't notice I gave him the same name as Rue from the Hunger Games until I was about fifteen chapters in. . . I'm so dim XD) I got a review from a person who didn't understand what I was getting at with Rue. Don't worry, it wasn't meant to be obvious :) In his episode of _New Generation_ , Ryuzaki makes a reference implying that he was 'L's successor born from IVF'. IVF is short for in vitro fertilisation, in which an embryo is made outside of the body. This implied that he was a biological recreation of L, and I thought that would be interesting to explore. My personal second-favorite character from my least favorite part of the franchise (Arma tops in at first ;)).

 **The last piece of the notebook** : I don't think that the court would have sent Light to prison if he didn't remember his crimes as Kira, so I had them attach a tiny piece to his skin. Why they made it big enough for him to write names, you will have to guess for yourself (jk, I was just to lazy to come up with a proper explanation). How did L get the last piece of the Death Note in the human world? My story was that he kept a sheet after they burnt the notebooks. I was originally going to write it into the story, but couldn't find the right place to stick it. Before you knew it, we were on the last chapter, and I still hadn't managed to work it in.

 **Amanda and Anthony** : If you didn't figure it out, I meant for Amanda and Anthony to be Near's parents. I know that it's not exactly in line with the rest of the story, but I've always had this theory that Commander Rester was secretly somehow Near's dad, and I really just wanted to work it in, somehow.

 **'My heart hurts'** : A reference to the novel _L: chage the WorLd_ (a novel adaptation to the film, with some notable changes and additions). During one part of the novel, L states that his heart hurts. I really wanted to work that line in here (also, just a fun fact, that was the one line that I've been sitting on since the start of the story. I pretty much wrote the entire story just so I could fit in that final paragraph).


End file.
